Outside Humanity
by Drake Roberts
Summary: When Ms. Summers asked Tara to babysit Dawn for the week, she thought it would be fun. That was before Spike showed up with Xander. A six year old Xander. Why is Xander six, you ask? That's what Angel wants to know. It's gonna be a long week.
1. Prologue: Enter the Powers That Be

Title: Outside Humanity 

Author: Drake Roberts (aka: Shelley) 

Rating: R, for violence, but not for a while. 

Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, my room would be bigger than a jail cell, or it would at least be padded. :) The characters, ideas, etc, belong to Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who they've given the rights to, namely not me. I just get my kicks playing around with them for a while. 

A/N: This idea has been plaguing me for a while. Basically, I'm posting it to see if I should put lots of effort into finishing it post haste, or if I can take my time because only I am enjoying it. So, feedback would be very appreciated. If you think something's amiss and want to give constructive criticism, that would make my day. If you don't like the story and want to take the opportunity to tell me I'm a loser and that my mother smells of elderberries though, I suggest you curb that impulse. My mother's an intimidating woman that doesn't like to be insulted.****

****Anyway. . . here's the story. It starts out a little weird, but please bear with me. I hope you like it as much as I do.****

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**Prologue**

Two figures stood in a room. Normally, this would be an uneventful occurrence. Of course, normally this activity would not be taking place in a Greco-Romanesque temple on a higher plane of existence. The tow figures wouldn't usually be Oracles looking through a mystic fountain, absorbed in the activities of the mere mortals below. One other difference markedly stood out. 

Normally higher beings didn't look quite so. . . frightened. 

"This does not bode well, Brother." The female Oracle spoke with a sense of urgency in her voice never expressed to anyone, save her eternal companion. "Plans, countermeasures for future action have been set in motion, but the events are moving too swiftly." 

"Calm yourself, Sister," the second oracle chided. He placed a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder. "True, the death of our predecessors has set back some of The Powers preparations. . . ." 

He frowned in thought. ". . . One wonders if this was possibly part of the reason behind their senseless slaughter." 

His mind pondered this thought for a moment longer, then pushed it aside. In the grand scheme of things, the death of those two was trivial compared to the newest threat to draw their attention. 

The two Oracles returned their gazes back to the fountain and watched the monks feverishly search for the answers they so desperately sought. Groups of hooded figures sat at tables paging through books so ancient only heavy wards kept them from crumbling to dust. Other monks examined stars charts, occasionally frowning in concentration and fear, as if consulting the parchments would bring death upon them even sooner. Still others knelt at altars offering up heartfelt pleas to the heavens above, hoping for divine intervention. 

"These mortals are more dedicated to their God than most," the female Oracle observed. "They pray so fervently to The Powers for help, for guidance." 

"They have good reason to pray," the male answered. "And we have reason to listen. If that banished temptress, the She-Goddess were to obtain such power, not even we would remain unaffected. In fact, we might be her primary target, at least in the beginning." 

The she-Oracle nodded. "I concur. The Key must be protected at all costs." She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. "This is indeed a pressing matter, but I believe something else demands our attention at the moment." 

She touched the water lightly with her outstretched finger. As the ripple effect moved outward, the scene changed. While the last situation showed controlled anxiety, this pictured utter anarchy. The entire underground facility was in chaos. Demons and soldiers waged bloody combat as the base fell to pieces around them. The battle was horrific, but it wasn't what drew their eye. The pull of power came from a far corner of the complex. 

"Something's happening here," the he-Oracle stated as he felt the magic blossom. 

The female Oracle allowed herself a small smile. "Just watch, dear brother."  
The two looked on, spectators from above, as three friends, so different, yet so alike in their need to fight for good, gave themselves and joined with the fourth, the Slayer. They saw the bullets stopped, and the missile transformed. They watched as the abomination looked on in confusion, its brain processing information that did not make sense. 

"You cannot begin to grasp the source of our Power," the vessel intoned in a voice containing all of its parts. This new creature then forced its hand through the abomination's chest. "But yours is right here." Golden eyes stared at the power source as the abomination slumped lifelessly to the floor. 

The Oracles watched all of this occur in a clinical, detached manner it seemed. That is, unless you looked closely and noticed the slight amazement on the male's face or the pride that twinkled in the woman's eyes. 

"That spell hasn't been invoked in a long time," the woman Oracle mused. 

"And never to such great effect," the man continued. "The Hand was strong." 

"The Mind was both learned and wise," the woman pointed out. 

The male Oracle nodded in agreement with his sister's observations. "The Spirit felt powerful and full of conviction. And the Heart. . ." 

"He loves them all," the female Oracle finished, her eyes now gazing at the progressing scene once again. Her brother's gaze returned there as well. 

"Is that a vampire helping them?" the male Oracle asked after a moment. "Strange. Shouldn't that be against his nature, savage lower being that he is?" 

"One would think," his sister mused. "Although this one seems a bit different than most." She briefly concentrated on the vampire in question as he destroyed one of his own kind with a brutal efficiency that screamed of familiarity. "He is not like our vampire Champion; no soul inhabits his body." 

Her brother frowned. "Yet he is . . . odd," the man said, somewhat distastefully. 

The female Oracle watched as the vampire fought side by side with the boy, the Heart, while the others tried to save as many of the soldiers as possible. "He interests me." 

She studied the picture from the fountain a few moments longer, a true smile forming on her lips as the two in question hurled insults at each other while making their escape along with the others. "They both do." 

"This is no time for frivolous antics, dear sister," the male Oracle said none too gently. Honestly, his sister could get so distracted at times. "There are other, more important matters at hand." 

"I know," the Oracle argued. "But this may lead us to our answer. The One Who is Four, the Four Who Made One; they hold something special. The bonds must be significant and powerful for the spell to work. It is no small feat for mere mortals to accomplish this, even with a Slayer among them." 

"But the fact remains, they are mere mortals. Three are no more than children. And the vampire. . ." The male Oracle shuddered in disgust. "True, this Slayer is formidable and the young witch is touched by Power, but what impact can these simple skills have against She Who Must Not Be Named?" 

"You shall see, my brother," his sister assured him. "The Testing comes soon. They will dream, and through their visions you and I will learn how special they really are." 

The he-Oracle looked doubtful, but the she-Oracle seemed almost excited. "May The Powers guide you true," she whispered as the four friends fell asleep in the Slayer's living room. 

"The First Slayer," the male Oracle mused, as the two sifted through the dreams. "The young Chosen One has a truly difficult test ahead of her if this spirit was invoked. She must learn from both her friends and herself." 

He looked further. "The Witch must accept herself fully or I foresee great peril," the Oracle continued with a frown. "I had thought the young witch above such trivial obstacles as an identity crisis." 

The female Oracle frowned as well. "Sometimes the hardest thing to accept is yourself. Power corrupts. We shall have to watch the witch closely." 

The two Oracles searched through the two remaining dreams. 

"Interesting," the woman began. "What contradictory images these two men have, both of themselves, and the others." 

"They both saw the Slayer as a child," the man observed. "And a quite defenseless child, at that. How curious." 

The woman nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But the boy saw the Witch and her lover as much more than children. And the vampire, his place in the dream was odd, to say the least." 

The male Oracle watched the playground scene displayed in the fountain with faint incredulity. "Curious," he repeated at length. "The Boy has some disturbing ideas about family." 

"As does the Watcher, apparently," the female Oracle pointed out. "And an interesting perspective on the Boy as well. More concrete than the others, but also fundamentally different from the rest. To evoke such contradictory visions of himself to his closest friends, this Boy must be quite an enigma." 

"Ya don't know the half of it, toots," a new voice sounded from behind them. 

The two Oracles spun around in shock. "Or maybe ya do, I dunno." 

"Why do you dare trespass, Demon?" the male Oracle demanded hotly. 

"It's Whistler," the demon clarified. "And I didn't trespass, I was sent." 

"By whom?" the Oracle demanded. 

"By the people upstairs," Whistler answered, pointing skyward. 

The female Oracle, being the more levelheaded of the two when it came to lower beings, stepped between her brother and the balance demon. "Have The Powers That Be become aware of the newest developments?" she asked politely. 

Whistler smiled. He really did like this girl more than her brother. "Yes, they've been aware for some time. And they agree with you about the Watcher and his children. Mortals they all are, but this group has risen to the challenge time and time again." 

"You are familiar with these four?" the female Oracle asked, surprised. 

"Them, and the vampire too. They've been kind of a special project for me for years." 

"You watched over a common vampire? They are low, beneath us in every way. What could possibly gain your attention about him?" the male Oracle asked in disbelief. 

Whistler shrugged. "He's unpredictable. I like that about him." 

"Unpredictable?" the female Oracle repeated, a note of doubt in her voice. "How so?" 

"Well, he devoted himself to an insane vampire for over a century. He's willingly worked with the Slayer, just be win back the favor of his sire and lover. Helped her save the world, which surprised the hell out of everyone upstairs. Nobody saw that one coming." 

"Vampires are very loyal to their Sires; this is well-known, Demon," the male Oracle stated with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

"This vampire's actions weren't motivated by loyalty. If that was the case, he wouldn't constantly be trying to kill his grandsire. No, his actions were motivated by love. He's a vampire that follows his heart. Most of his kind don't even like to admit they have one. Hell, without his soul, his grandsire's one of the coldest bastards I've ever met, and I've been alive a long time." 

"What point are you trying to make with all of this prattle?" the male Oracle retorted. 

Whistler glared at the arrogant man. "Strength is great and Power strikes fear into heroes and villains alike, but someone who follows their heart, putting their loved ones first, damning the consequences, and even themselves in the process. . ." Whistler paused, a enigmatic smirk gracing his features. "Believe me, those people; they're worth payin' attention to." 

He noticed the female Oracle looking at him curiously and winked at her. "That's a lesson for later, toots. Summon me sometime and I'll tell you all about it. Right now, you need to know about Sunnydale's Scooby Gang." 

The balance demon walked over to the fountain that had been forgotten after his surprise entrance. "This Slayer," he said and the fountain's image immediately changed to her fighting with the First Slayer in the desert. "She's one of the best I've seen: strong, inventive, aggressive, . . ." 

Whistler chuckled as the Slayer told off her prehistoric alter ego. ". . . and a smart ass. A Slayer that thinks for herself is a dangerous weapon." 

"The Witch is one of the meek given Power," Whistler explained as the Oracles watched her paint Greek letters on her lover's back. "She's a good soul, but she's got some decisions to make. Darkness is very seductive, but she's got friends to help ground her." 

"The Watcher is the father. He's never had children, so he borrowed some. None of the kids mind, in fact they need the guidance." 

Whistler stopped speaking for a moment and watched Giles sing on the stage while people held up lighters and swayed back and forth to the beat. "He may not admit it to even himself most of the time, but he'd do anything for those kids. When any of them are in trouble is when he's the most dangerous. It's what made the Council dismiss him. It's also what's kept the Slayer alive for so many years." 

"And the Boy?" the he-Oracle asked impatiently. "What type of sage-like wisdom do you have to share about him?" 

His sister silenced his tirade with a cool glare. "Continue, Dem-. . . Whistler. I wish to know about the Heart." 

Whistler met the she-Oracle's gaze somewhat sheepishly. "Thing is. . .the kid confuses me," the balance demon admitted. "He's helped the Slayer every step of the way. At first, I thought the kid just had a big yen for her and wanted to get noticed, but she doesn't even know half the stuff he's done for her." 

He looked down when he heard the banging, wincing when his eyes caught the look of fear on Xander's face. "They don't know the half of it, do they, kid?" he whispered to the oblivious boy. He doesn't have super strength to help fight off the baddies, and magic. . . well, let's just say the kid and magic don't mix too well." 

"So he is the weakest?" the male Oracle asked. "Then he should be pushed out for the good of all involved." 

"That's just the thing," Whistler continued, undaunted by the Oracle's condescending tone. "They've tried, but he's always there. They love him; he's family, but they don't think they need him. They think he'll just get hurt trying to do world-saving, that they can do just as well without him. They push him away, and what does he do? He pulls their fat outta the fire." 

The balance demon looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead only sighed and shook his head. "He really confuses me. They all do, to tell you the truth. But they get the job done." 

I think I'm beginning to see, " the female Oracle said as she continued to stare at the warped visions of the Sunnydale Gang. "The weakest and the strongest. Everyone has a role to play and everything is not what it seems." She smiled as the idea continued to bounce around in her skull. Whistler had to restrain himself from taking a step back in trepidation. 

What are you thinking, dear sister?" the male Oracle asked. The fact that he also looked nervous didn't calm Whistler any. 

"Yes, yes. The idea definitely has merit," the female Oracle mused, the other two entities in the room apparently forgotten. "But is it truly well-grounded? I must learn more, but it is possible. . . ." 

Her voice trailed off as her thought process became unspoken once again. Her brother was definitely agitated by this time, even to the point that he was openly showing his displeasure in front of their 'guest'. 

"What ideas are you pondering, sister?" he asked, trying his best to keep an even tone. 

She made direct eye contact with her brother, instantly sending him a mental transcript for her last five minutes of musing. While he was busy assimilating that information, she turned to Whistler. 

"I am very grateful to you for your insightful observations on these four unique individuals, as well as the vampire. You are truly an enlightened soul, so to speak. Your thoughts have proven most. . . inspirational." She offered the demon a smirk as a small token of appreciation. "I may require your services again in the future. For now, leave us; we have much to prepare." 

Whistler, knowing to always leave while still ahead when it came to higher beings, quickly complied. However, he remained in the Oracle's domain long enough to hear something even long-lived demons such as himself rarely got to hear. 

"Sister! This is insanity!" 

The demon chuckled. Yep, you had to live a long time to hear one higher being accuse another of lunacy. He reentered Earth's plane of existence with a smile on his face. Whatever doom and gloom that hung on the horizon he knew one thing; the outlook for the future had suddenly gotten a lot more interesting. 

TBC . . . 


	2. Chapter 1: While the Cat's Away

Title: Outside Humanity 

Author: Drake Roberts (aka: Shelley) 

Rating: R, just to be on the safe side. I did use the F-word, after all. 

Disclaimer: If I owned Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I'd be in California right now instead of in Kentucky freezing under about six inches of snow. Trust me, I'm not in California. 

A/N: Yeah, I posted two chapters. I didn't want to totally confuse the people who read it (both of you). Rest assured, by the end of this chapter, all the main character will make an appearance (I think. . . .). 

What are you waiting for? Start the chapter already!****

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**Part I**

"I'm so glad you agreed to do this for me, dear," Joyce gushed as she opened the door for Tara. She pointedly avoided inviting her in verbally, however. You could never be too careful. Joyce was finally taking that lesson to heart. No harmless looking stranger was going to take her by surprise. Only people she deemed safe were coming into her house. 

Of course, her and her elder daughter's opinion of 'safe people' differed on a couple of points. Joyce never really liked the fact that Buffy had reinvited Angel into the house. He couldn't be all bad if her daughter had fallen in love with him, but he'd hurt Buffy. Now, Joyce knew Buffy could handle just about anything physically, but emotionally she was still her little girl. And Angel had broken her little girl's heart. 

Twice. 

It would take a lot to make that up in Joyce's eyes. 

On the other hand, Joyce had been afraid that Buffy was going to have a stroke last week when she had entered the kitchen and saw her having a cup of hot cocoa with Spike. Her elder daughter, being who she is, promptly threw Spike out on his ear, quite literally. 

Buffy had gotten even angrier when Joyce had handed Spike a thermos of cocoa to take back to his crypt since they'd been so rudely interrupted. From the look on her daughter's face at that moment, she wouldn't have been surprised if steam had come out of Buffy's ears. 

For the next hour, Joyce had endured her daughter's patented "You Can't Have Cocoa with Spike; He's Evil" lecture. Honestly, you'd think her daughter thought she didn't realize Spike was a vampire. Of course he realized this. It was one of the many reasons Spike only visited her in the kitchen. There was an almost unending number a impromptu weapons within easy reach. Spike had figured out her ulterior motives for their kitchen socializing right away and knew any funny business would result in his meeting the wrong end of the wooden spoon she used to stir the cocoa. Unlike Buffy, the vampire recognized that Joyce was neither harmless nor gullible. She rationalized it was one of the reasons he'd lived so long. 

Plus, Spike may be a vampire, but he was also a vampire that had been nothing but nice to her. She thought it only fair that she be nice in return. Besides, there were moments when she talked with him over their steaming mugs when his cold exterior slipped and Joyce got a glimpse of the nice young man he used to be underneath. The same confused, heartbroken young, at least to her eyes, man who'd poured out his sorrows about his dark princess a little over a year ago. 

Joyce always saw that person inside of the bleach-blonde vampire now, just like she always took Angel with a grain of salt. Buffy just didn't understand a mother's perspective. 

"Hi, Ms. Summers," Tara greeted as she entered. "Is Dawn u-upstairs?" 

"Yes, listening to some teenage pop band sensation, no doubt," Joyce answered with a soft chuckle. Tara returned a shy smile. 

Joyce really liked Tara. She was sweet and polite, even though at times she seemed to be startled by her own shadow. She was a kind soul, something you didn't see that often anymore. 

"Are you sure you don't mind watching Dawn for the week?" Joyce asked. "I hate to put such a burden on you in the middle of the summer. You're not breaking any plans with Willow are you?" 

Tara blushed at the mention of her girlfriend. She still wasn't used to adults, parents especially, taking her lifestyle in stride. 

"N-no, no problem at all. Willow's gone to a computer conference in L.A. And to tell you the t-truth, I like spending time with Dawn. I haven't gotten to baby-sit in a while." 

"Alright, well thank you again. Everything should be here, food wise. If you need something else, I left money in the jar on top of the fridge, Dawn's also got money if she wants to rent movies or buy a little something if you guys go anywhere." 

Joyce led the young wiccan into the kitchen. "All the emergency numbers are by the phone. Most of them are also on speed dial. Dawn can only invite someone over if you think you can handle it." 

She handed Tara a 3x5 card. "Here's all the information on where I'll be staying in case you need anything. Any questions?" 

"Can she watch R rated movies?" Tara asked. 

"As long as it's nothing too explicit," Joyce conceded. "I'll trust you to use your own discretion." Joyce glanced at her watch. "I've got to go soon or I'll miss my flight." 

"Dawn!" she called up the stairs, "I'm leaving!" 

Dawn bounded down the stairs and gave her mother a quick kiss. "Bye, Mom. Have fun. Find a hunky man!" 

"Dawn!" Joyce admonished gently. "Be a good girl for Tara." 

Dawn caught Tara's eye and winked at her mischievously. "Yeah, me and Tara'll have loads of fun since Buffy's gone to Iowa. Oh! And Anya's at the computer convention with Willow so she can convince Giles to switch to computer inventory. We can totally invite Xander over this weekend and have a sleep over!" 

Tara and Joyce exchanged an amused look. Knowing Xander, he'd have no problem with Dawn's proposed sleep over. More than likely, Xander would find time every night to stop by and check up on the girls, and Joyce felt safer leaving Dawn behind in Sunnydale because of it. 

When they'd first moved to Sunnydale, Joyce had been amused and slightly sympathetic toward Xander's anxious bids for Buffy's affections. While other young men would have ignored the pesky younger sibling that kept getting underfoot, Xander had welcomed her with enthusiasm despite the age difference. In fact, Buffy usually ended up being the one kicking Dawn out when she, Willow, and Xander got together. It wasn't any wonder Dawn had a huge crush on him. 

"Can I invite Xander over, please?" Dawn pleaded. "We can hang, and watch movies all night. It can be payback for not getting him anything for his birthday yet." 

"When was his birthday?" Joyce asked. Buffy hadn't said anything about a party before she left at the beginning of the week with Riley. 

"Yesterday," Dawn answered glumly. "He turns nineteen and everyone's out of town. Well, except for Spike, but they're not exactly buds. He's gotta be feeling kind of down. So, can I invite him over, please?" 

Joyce looked at her younger daughter's eager face. "He can come over as long as Tara doesn't mind." 

Dawn's puppy dog eyes turned to Tara, who smiled shyly at the sight. "I don't mind. We can invite him over tomorrow." 

Secretly, Tara hoped he'd come over. She still needed to give him the birthday present she'd gotten for him. Willow had assured her that he'd love them, but Tara was still nervous about just going to his parents' house and giving them to him. She never actually spoken to him before without Willow right beside her, and truthfully she didn't know that much about him other than the stories Willow sometimes told her about the two of them as kids and a few observations she'd made watching him when the whole gang researched at the Magic Box. He acted friendly enough around her, in fact, besides Dawn, he was the one who made the most effort to make her feel welcome. He never talked about himself though, she'd noticed. The fact seemed at odds with his open personality, but she didn't really mind that fact. Trading stories of the past never made her list of things to do either. 

"The less everyone knows about me, the better," she thought with a tiny frown. "But Xander's a sweetie. I wish I had enough courage to actually talk to him, instead of just listening in on the Scooby Meetings." 

In truth, that's what the birthday present was supposed to do, create an icebreaker. She was holding out an olive branch, so to speak. From what she'd heard and seen from Xander Harris, she thought he'd make a good friend. And Willow loved her childhood friend so much, even though they'd grown apart recently. She thought making friends with him might help the two get the closeness from earlier years back. But Willow had decided at the last minute to go to LA with Anya, leaving her alone to give out the gift. Until now, that is. Now there would be an extra person with her, even if it was a thirteen year old. 

Dawn, completely oblivious to Tara's moment of introspection whooped with delight at the news and started an impromptu Happy Dance on the stairs. She gave both Tara and her mother a bone crushing hug each, then grabbed her mother's carryon bag and took it to the car. 

"Bye, sweetheart." Joyce placed a quick kiss on the top of Dawn's head. "Have fun. Be good. And tell Xander I said, Happy Birthday." 

"Will do, Mom!" Dawn called as she waved good bye. 

As soon as Dawn's mother left the driveway, she turned to Tara. "Just you and me for a whole week." Dawn grabbed both of Tara's hands. "This is gonna rock!" With a bounce and a squeal, Dawn let go of Tara and skipped back into the house, ideas already swimming through her head. Tara watched Dawn's antics with a small smile. 

"This is going to be a long week," she said with a sigh. 

* * * * * 

"Ah! Nothing like a Slayer-free Sunnydale!" Spike exclaimed as he finished off the last of a small group of fledglings. He usually didn't bother with the halfwits, but he was in a fighting mood tonight. And why not? With the Slayer and most of the Scoobies out of town for one reason or another, he could roam all over Sunnydale and rip apart every demon in sight without having to worry about offending their, at times, fragile sensibilities. 

Sure, the Watcher and the Whelp were still here, but as much as they loathed him personally, they never complained when he decided to disembowel the occasional vampire before he staked them. Although the Whelp had turned an interesting shade of green that first time. Even so, after the failed plan that was working with Adam, he _really_ didn't want to run into any humans who wanted to kick his ass. . . 

Spike stopped when he heard the sounds of a fight coming from the other side of the crypt in the distance. 

. . . Now demons, on the other hand, bring 'em on! He took off toward the commotion just out of his line of sight. 

"Well, well, well. What have we here? A couple of treasure hunting pounces?" 

The three demons in question didn't even turn toward him, instead concentrating on the crypt they seemed insistent on breaking into. 

The first demon was trying to strong-arm through the barricaded door with very little success while the other two were frantically reaching into a small hole created by a crack through the mausoleum's outer wall. From the way they were clawing, something must be trapped in there, something edible by the look of it. 

One of the demons made a swipe into the crevice with a wickedly clawed hand, eliciting a painful cry from inside the crypt. Make that some_one_ edible was trapped inside. 

Spike crept closer, slipping a dagger from a pocket inside his duster. Itching to fight or not, these demons were at least a foot and a half taller than him and were bound to be very possessive toward whoever they considered "dinner" for the evening. Yes, subtle was definitely the smarter approach in this situation, he thought as he crept silently closer to the still oblivious demons. 

That's right, just slow and steady. . . wait a second, since when am I subtle? 

Spike jumped on the back of the nearest demon, slitting its throat before it had a chance to let out more than a strangled yelp of surprise to escape its lips. The other two demons snarled in shock and anger at the intrusion before they sprang into action. 

Almost faster than Spike could follow, the nearest demon swiped at him and he got an good look at its enormous clawed appendage as it attempted to slice him in half. As it was, even with inhuman speed and reflexes the demon's claws cut four parallel slices across his abdomen. Spike grabbed his stomach in pain as he felt the blood begin to flow. He could tell the wounds were deep, but at least his organs weren't falling out. 

"That's it!" he growled, his face shifting to reveal the demon within. "I'm tearing you all apart with my bare hands." 

Spike's dagger was left forgotten on the ground as he dove for the second demon with a howl of rage. The creature lost its footing and toppled to the ground, Spike on top of him. The next thing it lost was its arm as the vampire ripped it from the creature's body at the shoulder. The demon screeched in agony as it was eviscerated with its own talons. 

Spike grinned, finding the thing's death oddly fitting, at least to his sadistic mind. Almost poetic in its irony. 'Twas his own hand that killed him' or some such rot. 

Suddenly he found himself being lifted in the air. Oops, he'd forgotten about the last demon in all the carnage and poetic musing. "This should be fun," he thought as the third demon rammed him into the stone door of the crypt. "Maybe I shouldn't have dropped my dagger." 

His head connected with the door again, and Spike could have sworn he saw stars behind his closed eyelids. "I wonder if they'll talk to me like they do Dru," he thought fuzzily as he shook his head to clear it. 

"Leave him alone!" 

Spike opened his eyes at the shout and looked down just in time to see the occupant of the crypt's hand shoot out and plunge the dagger he'd dropped completely through the last demon's foot. His extremely sensitive foot, by the way the demon was now screaming so shrilly it almost made Spike's ears bleed. 

Utilizing the timely distraction, Spike snapped his head back, catching the demon in what passed for his nose. Its grip quickly loosened, dropping Spike back to the ground. Through all this, the annoying demon continued to shriek. 

"Bleedin' hell!" Spike exclaimed, clamping his hands over his ears. It didn't help. 

With a growl of frustration, Spike pulled his dagger from the screeching demon's foot and plunged it into his throat. Its cry cut off with a blood-filled gurgle before it fell to the ground in a heap. He swiftly broke the thing's neck to insure it never made such a hideous noise again. 

That battle out of the way, Spike bent over to clean off his dagger, clutching his stomach as it protested at the movement. Yep, he'd definitely need to stitch himself up when he got home. Oh, well. At least he hadn't gotten cut on the face. He hated stitching what he couldn't see. 

His musing was stopped by the sound of a stifled sob. He'd almost forgotten about the demon's 'dinner'. Now that the thing had brought attention to itself, he didn't know how it had escaped his notice before. He could smell its fear from here as well as its blood. Not enough for a fatal wound, but Spike knew it was more than enough to attract other demons if it didn't get out of here soon. 

A rumble of thunder distracted Spike from the crypt and brought his eyes skyward. The stars were nowhere to be seen, covered by clouds that looked ominous even to a vampire used to the darkness. A storm was coming, and soon if the steady wind tossing the treetops and rattling brittle shrubbery branches was any indication. Time for all evil vamps to get inside their dank, dusty crypts. 

Lightning lit up the sky, turning the blackened storm cloud filled sky into an insidious swirl of grays creeping across the sky toward some unseen prey. A tiny, frightened cry came from the thing's hiding place. Perhaps the clouds were coming for him, Spike thought as he looked toward the crack in the crypt wall. He should just leave it here, whatever it was. If it couldn't take care of itself, it deserved to be eaten by the next demon that came along. Still. . . it _had_ helped him out when the third demon attacked him. It's blood smelled human enough, and judging by the size of the hole it had hidden in and the hand that had stabbed the demon, a small one at that. 

Spike rolled his eyes. Oh, bugger all, he couldn't just leave the kid here. Somehow the Slayer'd find out and he'd be in a world of trouble. With a groan he walked over to the crypt, cursing himself the entire way. He sighed. Maybe if he rescued the little blighter, the Watcher would give him a few pints of blood in reward. 

Just as he leaned down to look into the hole in the crypt, lightning flashed once again. The widest, most frightened looking brown eyes Spike had ever seen stared at him from beneath blood matted bangs. Spike was caught motionless by that stare. Normally such a sight would have his demon screaming 'smorgasbord', but for some strange reason, his demon was being noticeably silent. This kept getting more and more complicated. The lightning past and the hole was once again draped in darkness. He could no longer see the child, but still felt eyes on him. 

Spike kneeled down in front of the crevice. "The demons are gone. You can come out now," he said, trying to sound reassuring, or at least not like a serial killer. 

"Did you kill them?" the kid asked in a small voice. 

"Yep," Spike answered. So what if he traumatized the kid? He'd just been attacked by demons; you don't get much more traumatized than that. "They're good and dead, no worries." 

"You drink their blood?" 

Spike blinked. "Why would I do something like that?" 

"You're a vampire," came the reply from the hiding place. 

"Well, you got me there," came the reluctant affirmation. Great, now he was never going to get the kid out of there. Maybe he should just go and get the Watcher, let him handle the rugrat. 

"But you fought the monsters," the child continued slowly, as if thinking the events over. "You're. . .like a superhero." 

This statement got a real laugh from the vampire. "Not many people would agree with you there, kid. Ask anyone around, I'm the Big Bad." 

Spike heard more than saw the kid creep out of his hiding place, hugging the wall as he went. As he reached the mouth of the entrance, Spike caught sight of this mysterious child's face. The boy, he could see now, looked up at him and he was suddenly struck by a rush of familiarity. 

"You're not going to hurt me are you?" To Spike the boy's words sounded more like a statement than a question. 

"Nope, not gonna hurt you," Spike answered softly. It wouldn't do to frighten the rugrat off now. "Take you to get your cuts looked over maybe, but I won't hurt you." 

The boy bit his lower lip trying to decide whether or not to trust this strange man who had saved him from the monsters. Whatever went on in his head, it must have convinced the young boy to trust the vampire because he crawled the rest of the way out of the crypt just as the rain started to fall. Although it seemed he'd decided Spike would not kill him, the kid didn't make any move to get any closer to him. His left hand was clamped over still bleeding gashes on his upper right arm. By the look of them, Spike guessed they came from the demons. The falling rain washed through his hair and pink lines ran down to mingle with the tear tracks on the boy's face. 

"Perfect. Just perfect," Spike sighed as he looked skyward, raindrops already drenching his face and hair. His turned to his reluctant companion. "Hey, rugrat, we need to get out of here. Get you looked at. . . " Spike's voice trailed off. "You okay, kid?" 

"I don't feel good," the boy whispered leaning against the wall of the crypt, eyes falling closed. 

He didn't even move as Spike approached him, putting a hand to his forehead. "Now I obviously don't have any point of comparison, but you feel warmer than humans usually do. Let me see your arm." 

The boy whimpered softly as Spike gently inspected the gashes, wincing from the tiny twinges his chip was putting out. The angry red tissue around the wounds was also warm to the touch. Spike had no doubt his gashes looked exactly the same, but being dead did have its advantages, like partial immunity to most toxins. Unfortunately, the kid didn't have that luxury. 

"That demon got you good," Spike finally said aloud. "I know a friend who can fix you right up, though. What say we pay her a little visit?" 

"O-okay," the kid answered meekly. 

Spike looked down at his newly rescued mortal. The rain was quickly soaking through his torn clothes and he'd begun to shiver despite the relatively mild night. He knew the kid had to be hurting. Hell, his entire abdomen felt like it was on fire and the venom in his system was barely affecting him enough to notice. Yet the kid hadn't made a peep about any of it except when Spike had asked. He'd figured the kid would be screaming his head off by now. He was a real tough kid. Maybe that's why his demon was so suspiciously quiet. 

Before he knew what was happening, Spike had shed his duster and wrapped the quiet boy in it. Picking the child up and holding him close, he began trudging toward the Slayer's house. If he remembered right, Glinda was over there watching Slutty's little sis; she'd know what to do. Until then, he'd just keep the rugrat warm and make sure he wasn't bleeding too much. 

"Bloody hell!" Spike cursed himself softly. "When did I go from pawning the little blighter off for blood to making sure he didn't go into shock?" Spike breathed an unnecessary sigh. Oh, well. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposed. 

"So, you got a name, or do you just want me to call you kid for the rest of your life?" 

The boy looked up at him from underneath the shelter of Spike's coat with those same wide, innocent eyes and told him his name. And time seemed to stop. Everything fell into place. Four words, and the rush of familiarity, his silent demon. . . . It all made sense and shattered to pieces at the same time. 

"My name is Xander." 

Fuck. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. 


	3. Chapter 2: Unexpected Arrival

Title: Outside Humanity 

Author: Drake Roberts (aka: Shelley) 

Rating: R, because you never know when Tipper Gore might get a craving for fanfic and read this little diddy! 

A/N: First off, I would like to thanks those brave souls who actually read my humble story despite its horrendous teaser. Hopefully my work will continue to catch your interest. As before, feedback is joyously welcome, even if it's negative. Of course, if you insult me personally in your flames, then I shall have to send my rabid gargoyles after you, but I have faith that all of you readers out there are mature, kindhearted individuals who would never do such a thing. 

Okay, now that I'm done rambling, on with the story. 

* * * * *

Part II 

"Popcorn!" Dawn exclaimed as she bounced onto the couch beside Tara. Grinning, she pushed the bowl underneath the young wiccan's chin. "Come, partake of the buttery, salted goodness." 

Tara giggled. "Partake?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow. 

"I'm using lingo from the movie," Dawn explained. "You know, turning a fun night into a learning experience." 

"Dawn, it's Army of Darkness. What could you possibly learn?" 

"Uh," Dawn bit her lip in concentration. "Possessed people are really ugly?" 

Tara shook her head. 

"Beat up old Dodges are strong enough to survive a trip through time, space, and dimensions?" 

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but that one's a given," Tara informed her solemnly. 

A wicked gleam lit up Dawn's face, and she smirked triumphantly. Suddenly Tara was very afraid. "Even though you like Willow in a very 'massive smoochies' sort of way, there's just something about a dirty, cut, and bloodied Bruce Campbell that is undeniably sexy." 

Tara's eyes glazed over as visions of said star soaking wet with only half a shirt clinging to his muscled chest danced through her head. Luckily, she snapped out of Fantasy Land before she began to drool. 

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me," Dawn reassured her. She turned back to the television and watched Ash get violated by dozens of skeleton hands. "This movie is so cool! Do you think Xander's ever seen it?" 

"Oh, I'm sure he has, " Tara answered with a laugh. She'd nearly fallen over in a fit of giggles one night after Xander had yelled, "Yo, She-Bitch, come get some!" at a vamp outside the Bronze. She grabbed a handful of popcorn and, deciding to forgo such things as manners and etiquette, ate it all at once. Eating popcorn one piece at a time was for wusses and manic dieters, not experienced movie watchers such as herself and Dawn. 

"Ya think we could ever get Spike to dance around Buffy singing 'Little goody-two-shoes'?" Dawn mused after polishing off her own fistful of popcorn. 

Tara contemplated the motion while stealing another handful of popcorn. Finally, she shook her head. "Nope, not unless there was strong supernatural intervention. Now Xander on the other hand. . . ." 

Dawn burst into laughter as her imagination supplied a very graphic image. "We have SO got to convince him to do that when Buffy gets back!" 

Just the thought of Xander dancing an improvised jig around their very own Slayer while she patrolled through the streets of Sunnydale brought forth another round of giggles from the pair on the couch. However, any further conversation was halted by a knock at the door. Dawn looked at Tara nervously. "The sun set hours ago. Who would be knocking? Giles would have called first and Xander knows he can come in whenever he wants." 

"I don't know," Tara answered just as anxiously. "I'll take a look; you stay here, okay?" 

After Dawn nodded her assent, Tara grabbed the crucifix she kept in her bag and opened the door slowly, equally ready to face off against anything from monsters to door-to-door salesmen. But what she found on the other side of the door still managed to surprise her. 

"Spike? W-what are you d-doing here?" 

"I need your help," he answered simply. 

Okay, and here she thought she couldn't get more surprised. There went that theory. "I. . .I can't just l-l-let you in," Tara stammered. The vampire's presence put her on alert for lurkers in the shadows. 

Spike put a foot inside the doorway. "I've already been invited, ducks, if that's what you're worried about. I'm not here to chomp on you or the Slayer's lil' sis. . . . " 

His words cut off with a wince and he carefully shifted the duster he held to his chest. With this movement, Tara immediately became aware of two things. One, Spike had nearly been eviscerated and two, something was whimpering from within the folds of his duster. Tara's eyes widened as both facts sunk in, but she still felt conflicted. Spike had obviously been in a fight, but could she really let a master vampire into the house when it was just her and Dawn? Neither one of them were that great at protecting themselves. What would Buffy say if she found out? 

Spike could tell by the look on her face which direction her thoughts were going and sighed softly. "Look, if you don't trust me, could you at least take the whelp?" 

Tara's eyes shot up to meet Spike's in surprise at the vampire's request. In his eyes she saw the sincerity behind his plea, as well as the pain he was carefully trying to hide. It made her decision easy. "N. . .no, Spike. Come in, I'll help. Go in the kitchen; it'll be easier to clean up in there afterwards. I'll be there in a minute." 

The vampire relaxed visibly before half-stumbling into the house. Tara put a hand under his elbow to steady him. "Dawn," she called toward the living room. 

The teen's head poked through the doorway. Her eyes widened when she saw Spike. "What's going on?" 

"Spike had a run-in. . ." she began as she pushed the front door closed and locked it. 

Dawn sighed inaudibly. Here it came. Something Hellmouthy had happened so she now had to barricade herself in her bedroom with the covers over her head like a good little girl until the big, bad monsters went away. Typical. 

". . . Could you get the first-aid kit out of the bathroom and bring it into the kitchen for me? Please?" 

Dawn blinked. "Huh? Uh. . .yeah. Yeah, I can do that!" She practically flew up the stairs. 

"Slayer's not gonna like you lettin' the Lil Bit help," Spike commented as he very nearly collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table. Tara noted that despite his less than graceful landing, he kept a firm hold on whatever he had concealed in his coat. 

"Well, Buffy's not here," Tara retorted. "I am." 

"That you are, ducks." Spike quirked an eyebrow, in what looked suspiciously like respect at the blonde witch. "I need you to patch up this little fellow." 

He pulled his duster away from the mysterious bundle revealing a mop of unruly dark hair, a pale face, and two pain-filled mahogany eyes. Tara gasped quietly in shock at the sight before her. The little boy clutched Spike's tattered T-shirt in his tiny hands and buried his face in the vampire's chest. Spike grimaced as his injury was aggravated, but surprised Tara even more when he wrapped an arm around the child, holding him gently. 

"Shhh, pet, it's all right. This is my friend I was telling you about. She's gonna take care of you." 

The boy chanced a look up at Spike's face. "She's gonna make me feel better?" he asked quietly. 

"Yep," he answered the child. "It's okay. She not gonna hurt you." 

"What about you?" the boy asked. 

Spike looked perplexed. Tara didn't think anyone had ever cared about the vampire's well being before, at least not since he'd become a member of the undead. It was always just assumed among the Scoobies that he'd go back to his crypt and mend on his own. 

Spike smiled down at the kid, gentleness in the gesture that Tara had never thought to associate with the blonde demon. "Yeah, she'll patch me up too, won't you, Tara?" 

"Of course," she answered immediately. 

The boy looked up at Spike a moment longer before turning to face Tara anxiously. 

"Hi, there," she said quietly as she crouched down to his level. "What happened?" Her eyes traveled from the cut near his hairline to the still seeping gashes on his upper right arm. 

"I found him hiding in my cemetery. Some demons were trying to have him for dinner. He got clawed inside his hiding place. The buggers got in a lucky shot while I was rending them limb from limb. Something on the demon's claw is poisonous. I didn't think Sunnydale General would be able to handle it, so I gathered up the tyke and brought him to you." 

Before Tara could question further, Dawn returned from upstairs. "Sorry I took so long, but I grabbed a couple of other things I thought you might need. . . . Hey, who's the kid?" 

"It's Xander," Spike replied. 

"Holy shit! What happened to him?" Dawn exclaimed. 

Tara forgot to reprimand Dawn for her harsh language. She was too busy trying to get her mind to wrap around the impossible notion that the small child clinging to a master vampire like a lifeline was a nineteen year old man only hours ago. She could handle this. Really, she could. 

"Ah, fuck," she whispered. 

Spike gave the witch a small smile. "That's pretty much what I thought, pet." 

Tara grimaced. Her impending bout of hysterics wasn't going to help anyone. Right now, all that mattered was treating the injuries. "Spike found him," she informed Dawn. The look she gave Spike told him that she didn't appreciate his abrupt revelation about the boy's identity. 

She put a hand to Xander's forehead. "Goddess, he's burning up. Lay him on the table, Spike." 

Dawn spread one of the towels she'd brought downstairs with her across the kitchen table, while Tara took out a few necessities from the first aid kit. Xander whimpered in fright as he was laid on the tabletop. 

"No worries, rugrat. I'm still here," Spike soothed. He ghosted a finger over Xander's tearstained cheek and grabbed one of the boy's hands. "You're all right. Goodwitch and the Nibblet are gonna take good care of us." 

Xander looked up at the blonde vampire, fear clearly etched on his face. His lower lip trembled. "Promise?" 

"Cross my heart and hope to live, pet," Spike returned solemnly with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He wasn't used to this. . .coddling of little ones, or the uncomfortable feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he saw this pint-sized version of Xander in pain. It had to be from the demon attack, he reasoned. 

Tara gave the boy her most tender smile and placed a cool washcloth on his forehead. "You just lie still and rest, sweetie. I'm just going to look at your arm, okay?" 

"Okay," Xander whispered. 

Tara examined the boy's arm as gently as she could, but her heart still broke every time a moan or whimper escaped his lips. The slash wasn't too serious. No arteries were severed and the bleeding had nearly stopped at this point, but it wasn't the injury itself that bothered her. She worried instead about the toxin circulating through Xander's system. With a frown, Tara took a piece of gauze and dabbed lightly at the wound to remove any unseen debris. Xander hissed at the contact. 

"Sorry sweetie," she apologized. "I know it hurts, but I'm almost done. Just a little bit more, then I'm finished." 

Tara turned back to the task at hand. Muttering a few words under her breath, she laid her hand on Xander's arm just below where the demon had struck. Blinking a few times, she saw with new eyes. The demon's toxin stood out bright red around the wound on Xander's arm and spread in a less concentrated trail through his body. Tara bit her lip to prevent any outward expression of her distress. This toxin worked fast. She had a few spells that might help, but she doubted she could purge this amount of infection from his system. She sighed. She'd do as much as she could, and if that wasn't enough then. . . well, she had an idea, but she would address it only if the need arose. 

The young witch turned to Dawn. "Can you help Spike patch himself up?" 

Dawn's mouth dropped open in amazement for a moment, but she quickly got control of herself. "Uh, sure, but why don't you just do it after you're done?" 

"Because I want Spike to hold Xander whenever I finish with him." 

Spike looked up at Tara, shocked. "You're trusting me to watch over a defenseless little kid?" Sure, he'd brought the rugrat here, but he hadn't expected anyone to let him near the tyke after that. 

"He's scared half to death and you are the only one he trusts enough to relax around," Tara retorted. "If Xander feels safe with you, I'm willing to trust you. Now get cleaned up, he's going to need you in a few minutes." 

Spike turned his chair away from the table so Dawn could get unobstructed access to his torso. "Ok, Spike, take your shirt off." Dawn broke off with a snicker. "I've always wanted to say that!" 

"Just bloody great," Spike grumbled. "I'm getting ogled by a teenybopper. My unlife is now complete." 

"Oh, get over it," Dawn ordered while she helped him peel off his blood soaked T-shirt. Spike had to give the girl credit when she barely paled upon seeing the livid gashes across his abdomen. She did better than Willow at the sight of blood. 

"At least Buffy's not doing this," Dawn continued. "She'd be constantly complaining about your blood ruining her tank top and threatening to stake you for having cocoa with Mom, or maybe just on principle." 

"True," Spike agreed. "That or she'd be convinced that Xander's "condition" was somehow my fault even though I haven't a bleeding clue how he got that way." 

He watched Dawn as she gently yet efficiently cleaned his injuries while she babbled on about her older sister and her "oh, so annoying" habits. She even did a fair impression of the Slayer in a tiff. 

"You've lost a lot of blood," Spike was so engrossed in watching her that he almost missed her statement. 

"Yeah," he answered as the haze cleared. "I expect so. What was your first clue? The new skylight in my torso?" 

Dawn wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Eww. You're just pale. . .well paler than normal and your lips are kind of grayish. Maybe since you saved Xander's life and all, Giles will pitch in for the good stuff this time." 

"A vampire can dream," Spike told her with a smirk.

He held the gauze pads in place while she wrapped a bandage around his abdomen tight enough to keep him together until his vampiric healing knitted him back together. 

"Well, you've got my vote," Dawn informed him. "O-positive for you!" She taped the bandages securely. "Behold my masterpiece. Your shirt's pretty much history, but I think the shirtless, wounded look really works for you." 

The vampire looked down at the bandages. "This is quite an expert job you've done, Nibblet. How'd you learn all this?" 

"I've read every emergency first-aid book I could get my hands on in the last couple of years. It was kind of my way of dealing with the whole, "My sister's the Slayer" thing." 

"You did all of this under your sister's nose?" Spike queried. He knew the Slayer would balk at her sister getting involved in any way with her night job. 

"Well, I had a little help. . .from Xander," she admitted. 

Spike raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't think the whelp ever did anything that might upset Princess Buffy. Of course, he was dating that demon chit. . . . 

"Xander smuggled the books out of the library for me. We both looked at them, and he even let me try some of the things on him, you know like splints and stuff. He understood that learning all about bandaging and CPR made me feel less helpless." Dawn's face became downcast. "At least it would if Buffy would ever let me in on what's going on." 

"Well, you've been a big help to me tonight," Tara commented as she finished applying butterfly bandages to the cut on Xander's head. She cupped his face in her hand, smoothing her thumb gently over his cheek. "All done." 

Spike immediately went to the kitchen table and pulled Xander into his arms. Xander's uninjured arm went around Spike's neck as he laid his head on the vampire's shoulder. 

"Feel better?" he asked the boy. 

"A little," Xander whispered. 

"I see the witch dried your clothes for you," Spike observed. 

Xander nodded slightly, his head still resting on Spike's shoulder. He didn't offer any reply though, just held onto Spike as tightly as he could. He frowned at the boy's silence. Sitting back down in the chair he'd vacated, he looked up at Tara who had begun to pace nervously. He watched her as she went back and forth, obviously having an animated conversation with herself if the rapid, yet silent hand movements were any indication. After a few minutes, she seemed to come to a decision with herself. With a deep breath, she turned to Spike, knowing he was not going to like what she said next. 

"We need Giles," she announced. 

TBC. . . . 

__

A/N: I know this isn't exactly to best place to cut it off, but I'll update again soon. I've got the next part written, I just have to revise and type it. I won't keep you in suspense for too long, promise. 


	4. Chapter 3: Trust Issues

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts (aka: Shelley)

Rating: R. It is one of the most common letters of the alphabet, after all.

A/N: Once again, thanks to all of you wonderful people who found it in your hearts to review this story that has grown into a true monstrosity in my notebook. I would have updated sooner, but I've been in the land of no Internet, or even computers (My parents' house) for the last few days. The scenic countryside provided time for reflection and inspiration. I've got some wacky ideas for this story later on, so I warn you beforehand. Hold on, if this goes the way I see it in my head, it's gonna be a WILD ride.

Okay, now that I'm done with the posturing and melodrama, on with the story!

__

Be warned: Not beta'd. But, neither were the other parts if that's any consolation.

* * * * *

Tara winced when Spike scowled viciously at her proclamation. She knew there was no love lost between the vampire and the Watcher. Sworn mortal enemies had a way of not getting along.

"Great," Dawn grumbled. "Just when I was starting to get used to Buffy being gone, she's coming back. Such is my life."

"We don't need the bloody Watcher," Spike argued. "You're a right smart gal and Nibblet's certainly proven her worth tonight. We can handle this on our own."

Dawn smiled so wide at the vampire's unexpected praise, it was a miracle her face didn't crack. Tara however frowned in apprehension. She mentally prepared herself for the argument ahead.

"We have to find out what kind of demon did this, and for that we need Giles," she told him. "Giles has resources we don't and texts that I could never get my hands on in a million years. And he is ours and Xander's friend."

"He's not my friend," Spike countered sharply, expecting her to back down.

A second later, he found himself pinned with a sharp glare from the normally timid witch. Both Spike and Dawn, who sat watching from nearby, were floored by her confident manner. Neither would equate the strong presence before them with the shy, stuttering girl that they were used to seeing. 

"Whatever has happened to Xander, we don't know if this is the end of it. Will it get worse? Is it something from the demons that is affecting him, or do we have to worry about some new prophecy? We don't even know if it's a spell at all. We have a lot of questions and no idea where to start looking for the answers." 

Throughout her speech, Tara spoke calmly and evenly, but the emotion could be heard beneath the surface. This wasn't the Tara that Spike saw constantly trying to hide herself behind her girlfriend or escape notice completely. This woman was full of surprises tonight.

"Like it, or not," she continued. "Giles has the knowledge of the Watcher's Council behind him."

"No one's breathing a word of this to the Watcher's Council!" Spike exclaimed. Xander flinched at the shout, and Spike's attention immediately switched to calming the boy clinging to him.

Tara and Dawn watched in silence as Spike hugged Xander closer to him, whispering soft assurances even as he clearly fought to control his temper. Tara knew her statement had for some reason angered the vampire, but none of that anger was apparent in the gentle way he handled the boy, his back turning slightly away from the two. Neither of them had ever seen him act this way before with anyone. What was going on? Two pairs of eyes widened as they simultaneously came to the same realization, but surprisingly, it was Dawn who spoke first.

"Spike?" she began. "Giles won't hurt Xander. He's like family to the old guy. You know that, right?"

Spike's shoulder tensed at the young girl query, but didn't make any response.

With a shudder, Dawn continued a little more nervously. "Tara didn't mean that Giles would blab to the Council. He doesn't like them any more than you do. Well, okay, you probably hate them more, but she just meant that he used to be a Watcher and has all that stuffy British librarian knowledge, right Tara?"

Dawn looked at Tara beseechingly, a plea for help clear in her eyes. Spike finally turned back to them and Tara nodded. "We won't let anything happen to Xander, we promise," she told him solemnly. "Don't you trust us?"

Tara and Dawn waited with bated breath for Spike to respond both afraid he would bolt and take Xander with him. If he decided to do so, they knew neither one of them could stop him. Spike, for his part, stared at the young wiccan and her temporary charge respectively. Did he trust them? Normally, he made it a rule to never trust anyone, but when he needed help, he automatically thought of Red's lover. It kind of disconcerted him that he'd so easily turned to her. And the Nibblet, well, before tonight, he'd never really even spoken to her, but there was something about her that made him like her instantly. Maybe it was just because she'd patched him up, but he doubted it. So, did he trust them?

Both girls sighed in relief when he nodded jerkily. "I trust you two. Must be out of my bleedin' mind, but I do."

Argument finished, Spike saw Tara immediately slip back into her shell. Shame, really, he thought. He liked it when the witch showed some backbone. When she spoke again, she was much more like the shy girl that he was used to.

"O-okay. I'll j-just go call him now." She started to leave, but paused. Spike saw her gaze go to the boy he still held. She blinked heavily a few times, then frowned.

"What is it, ducks?" Spike asked in concern, also looking down at the boy in his arms. The boy's earlier improvement was quickly fading. He'd gotten paler, if that was possible, and while he hadn't made a sound, Spike could see pain creeping back into his eyes.

Tara swallowed nervously. She'd been afraid of this. "I didn't get all the toxin out," she whispered.

"What?" Dawn asked, looking at Tara in dread.

"I know some healing spells, but they can only do so much. I helped as much as I could, but . . .." She trailed off at the look of terror spreading across both Spike and Dawn's faces. 

"There has to be something we can do," Spike argued. Tara bit her lower lip anxiously. "Tara, what is it?" he asked, for once forgoing any nickname.

"I . . . I have this friend. I think she can help Xander, but s-she might not be able to."

Spike frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"She's a h-healer," Tara replied. "A Born one, not just f-from spells."

Spike's eyes widened. "A Born Healer? Do you know how rare those are?"

"Yeah, I do. I kind of ran into her a few weeks ago." she explained hastily, not really wanting to get into the details of that experience. "I don't know how strong she is, but I think she can help with the toxin, e-even if we don't know what it is." She turned to Spike. "Do . . . do you want me to call her? See if she can help?"

"She'd do that?" Spike asked. "As I've heard it, their kind aren't usually so kind toward witches and demons."

Tara smiled slightly. "She's a little different than most Healers, at least from what I've heard. She's the only one I've ever met. She'll help if she's able."

"Why didn't you say anything before, Tara?" Dawn asked, curious.

"Healing someone like that is no small matter, Nibblet," Spike answered. "That kind of intervention, you don't use it for every little thing, or it upsets the natural order. It's an abuse of power."

"He's right," Tara continued, with a look at the bleach blonde vampire. It shocked her that a vampire could understand the need to maintain balance. "I had to try everything else possible before even entertaining the idea." 

Dawn frowned as a thought came to her. "There's a chance that this Healer lady might not be able to help Xander, isn't there? What's the catch?"

"You're right," Tara answered, surprised at the girl's insight. "Intent has to be pure. I don't think that will be a problem. I'm just afraid she's healed recently and won't have the strength to help Xander. I didn't want to bring it up unless I didn't think we had another choice." She met Spike's eyes seriously. He got the message loud and clear. At this point, she thought the help was necessary.

Spike looked at the witch searchingly for a moment. "All right, you call your friend. I trust you."

Tara smiled shyly, unable to meet the vampire's eyes after the compliment. She focused on the hem of her shirt instead, twisting it through her fingers nervously. "I'll go call now." She practically fled the room.

An uncomfortable silence fell between Spike and Dawn. Not surprisingly, it was Dawn who broke it. "So what do you think did it?" she asked hesitantly. "Some kind of spell or curse?" A thought struck her. "Hey, maybe getting attacked by those demons did it!"

Spike thought it over. "Maybe, but he was like this when I found him." He sighed. "I don't have a bloody clue what could have done it. I've never even heard of such a thing."

Conversation halted once more as both of them contemplated that statement. Neither of them brought the topic back up, each lost in thought. After Tara finished her phone calls, she herded everyone into the living room and settled them onto the couch. Dawn was watching Spike and Xander worriedly, while Spike himself seemed to go into a daze. The only indication of his awareness of the world around him was the hand that stroked a gentle pattern up and down the back of Xander's neck while he cradled the boy in his other arm.

Spike roused himself when he felt an afghan being draped over his shoulders. Confused, he looked up to see Tara gazing down at him with concern clearly etched on her face.

"You were shivering," she offered in explanation. She managed to stop herself before she felt his forehead. He was a vampire; he couldn't get a fever, even if that appeared to be the case at the moment. "Is it the toxin?"

"No," he answered. "It's the blood loss. I'll be fine."

He didn't look fine, Tara observed. If he were human, she'd be rushing him to the hospital, or at the very least making him lie down. Could a vampire go into shock? She watched the vampire worriedly as he wrapped the afghan around himself and Xander before giving her a nod in thanks. The energy that constantly coursed through him, the spark that she associated with the vampire had dwindled to nearly nothing. This being before her looked so . . . fragile, a trait she'd never expected to enter her mind in context with such a dangerous creature. She found herself hoping Giles brought some blood with him when he came. With an almost inaudible sigh, she sat on the opposite side of the couch. A minute later, Dawn settled on the floor beside her resting her head on Tara's knee.

It was this sight that greeted Rupert Giles when he used his copy of the house key to open the Summers' front door. To say that he was shocked to see Tara and Dawn worriedly gazing at a noticeably shivering Spike would be an understatement. But seeing Spike with a small child threatened Giles' entire worldview.

"Dear Heavens!" he exclaimed. "Is that Xander?"

The aforementioned boy startled at the sound of the new voice and burrowed further into Spike's embrace with a tiny whimper. Spike shot a glare at Giles that made him question whether or not a tiny piece of silicon and wires could really stop a master vampire bent on violence.

"Yeah, it is," Tara answered quietly. "We were hoping you might have an idea of what could do this to him."

Spike continued to glare in the Watcher's general direction. Giles watched Tara notice this and put a hand on the vampire's shoulder.

"Trust me?" she asked, looking the master vampire straight in the eye. Giles thought she was too shy to look anyone directly in the eye.

Spike met her stare with one of his own before he finally nodded. Tara patted his knee before leaving the couch and walking over to Giles. The Watcher looked on in bewilderment at the action, then in downright shock when Spike offered no comment on the obviously comforting gesture that she'd just committed. Goodbye, worldview.

Tara grabbed a couple of books off the top of the pile Giles had brought with him and started for the kitchen. Giles took one last look at the strange scene and followed.

"S-sorry about that," Tara apologized as she set his books down on the kitchen counter. "Spike's acting a little overprotective. He's in pain and he doesn't want Xander to get hurt."

Giles blinked owlishly as his brain tried to process this startling news. "Oh," he replied, his supposedly vast intellect refusing to come up with anything more eloquent.

Tara smiled at him sympathetically. "It's a lot to deal with, believe me, I know."

Giles pulled off his glasses and started cleaning them with his handkerchief. "Yes, quite. The image of Spike . . . cuddling a small child will be with me for years, especially since I know said boy to be Xander."

Tara grew more serious at the Watcher's flippant statement. "You didn't see him bring Xander here. Whatever attacked them nearly tore Spike in half. He looked like he was seconds away from falling over when he got here, but he wasn't worried about himself." Tara paused and Giles found himself on the receiving end of a stare not unlike the one Spike had gotten a few minutes before. The steel in the young woman's eyes surprised him almost as much as the quiet authority in her voice. "The only thing he was worried about was Xander, and Spike's the only one of us that Xander really trusts right now. So, until all of this is over, Spike stays. You two are going to have to work together."

Giles nodded, stunned. It took him a moment to find his voice. "If it means Xander's recovery, I am willing to call a truce." He didn't mention his thoughts on Buffy's reaction to all of this, had she been there. He was sure Tara already knew. He just hoped everything was resolved before the Slayer's return. Buffy was many things, but she had blindspots when it came to Spike and her friends in peril. Upon seeing Xander, she might stake first and ask questions later. Normally Giles didn't mind this approach, but for once Spike was innocent of any wrongdoing, or even ill will if what his eyes had told him was true. 

He sighed. This was going to be a long night, might as well just jump right in. He picked up a spiral notebook and pen. "Tara, start at the beginning if you please."

* * * * *

In the living room, Dawn watched Xander hid his face in Spike's chest. "That's just Giles," she explained softly. "He won't hurt you."

For once the little boy didn't flinch, but instead turned to look at her directly from where he sat, his head still resting on Spike's chest. "Really," he asked her quietly. Dawn's heart nearly broke at the uncertainty in his voice and the look of pain and fear in his eyes. It was hard for her to think of the frightened child as the same brave and boisterous older brother she knew.

"Yeah, really," she answered immediately. "None of us are going to hurt you."

Xander seemed to relax at the statement. Dawn took that as a good sign and moved onto the couch. Spike watched her do this but remained silent, a fact she decided was permission to speak to the boy further.

"I'm Dawn," she continued in the same soft voice.

"I'm Xander," the boy answered just as quietly, but with a small smile.

Encouraged further, Dawn smiled back. "Nice to meet you, Xander. How old are you?"

"Six," he answered. He paused and looked Dawn over. She had the strange feeling she was being assessed, but brushed the thought aside. The kid was only six, for goodness sake! "How old are you?" he finally asked.

Dawn smirked and a hint of pride entered her voice. "Thirteen and a half." Spike smirked at her superior tone and Xander looked suitably impressed. 

Silence fell between the two once again as Xander looked at her curiously. To tell the truth, Dawn was kind of unnerved by the intensity of young Xander's gaze. For a second, she was convinced it wasn't a child who was staring at her.

"What? Do I have something in my teeth?" she joked nervously.

"You're pretty," Xander remarked. He grinned. "A shiny, pretty girl."

Spike tensed and the two of them shared a look over Xander's head. Dawn scooted closer, but the boy didn't back away like the vampire expected. Xander wasn't afraid of Dawn at all; in fact he seemed entranced by her.

"Geez," Dawn gasped softly as she felt Xander's forehead and cheek. "You're still burning up, and now you're hallucinating. That can't be good."

She looked up at Spike and saw the growing concern on his face. He gazed down at the boy in his lap. Xander continued to watch Dawn, but seemed only half-aware of his surroundings. His eyes reminded him of Drusilla's during some of her most insane ramblings.

A bolt of terror ran through Spike's mind at that thought. Even as he rubbed the young mortal's back soothingly he wondered where what brought these feelings on. Something about Xander in this condition brought on a rush of protective instincts the likes of which he hadn't felt in . . . well, a very long time. It wasn't that he had a soft spot for children. He had never went out of his way to kill the little buggers during the good old days, but a meal was a meal and even the young brought out the thrill of the hunt. He'd never killed children for sport, but he'd never been overly fond of them either, at least not since he was mortal, he thought with a shudder.

But that wasn't the problem. True, that bit of himself that remained from his days as a softhearted Victorian gentleman wanted nothing more than to care for and nurture the poor, defenseless little rugrat. Normally his demon would have squashed those traitorous thoughts in a second. However, this time his demon had different ideas. No, his bloodthirsty, murderous nature didn't rage with bloodlust or the need for violence against the innocent. No, his demon did something much more frightening. It cried family. "Mine," it raged. Deep inside, he felt kinship with the boy, and that scared Spike on levels he didn't even know existed.

Spike's internal panic attack was stopped by a knock at the door. Hopefully this healer the witch knew could help them out. Tara exited the kitchen where she was still speaking with Giles and answered the door.

__ TBC . . . . __

Sorry about the abrupt ending to this chapter, but this scene is incredibly long and I wanted to post the first half for you guys. I'll get the rest of this scene up as soon as I can. 


	5. Chapter 4: The Healer

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts 

Rating: R, just in case someone's mom decides my writing is too graphic. Seriously though, the high rating is just because of some swearing and violence at parts.

A/N: I am a bad, evil individual. I should be greatly punished for making all of you readers wait so long for another part of this story. The only excuse that I have is a case of temporary insanity. All the plot bunnies in my head decided to start shouting out ideas at once and I've been trying to deal with the backlog. The good thing is, I now have the beginning to a HP crossover (sorry, but I couldn't resist, God help me) that was driving me up the wall. The bad thing is, you guys had to wait for frickin' ever for this chapter. I'll be better from now on, I swear. Also, a note of warning: I've put in an original character in this chapter, but I like her, so you'll just have to deal with it. Tell me what you think of her; just don't cuss too much.

Warning: This is in no way beta-read, but I think I have great grammar for a Kentuckian. 

Disclaimer: Yeah, I own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. . . snicker Nope, I can't even type it with a straight face. If you're half the fan that I am you know exactly who owns this wonderful franchise. On with the story already!

* * * *

"Sorry it took me so long," the voice at the door panted, clearly out of breath. "I had a little trouble finding the house. I don't think I've ever been in this neighborhood before."

The visitor stepped over the threshold, knowing it was futile to wait for an invitation and swung a heavily laden backpack off of her shoulder. As she walked past the doorway to the living room, Spike got his first glimpse of the supposed Healer, expecting a regal, grandeur presence. A girl who didn't look more than a couple of years older than Dawn stood talking with Tara, trying to push sopping wet hair out of her eyes, a Scooby Doo backpack clutched tightly to her chest. He watched as she gathered her dripping tresses into a haphazard ponytail, while Tara handed her a towel and filled her in on the entire situation.

After a brief explanation, and a nod from the healer, Tara led the girl into the living room. As they approached, Spike noticed with a start that the girl actually stood a good couple of inches taller than the blond Wiccan. It was a surprising sight after being around so many petite women. She wasn't quite as tall as his dark goddess, but she was close. If she were as young as she looked, in a few years she'd become an intimidating figure of a woman. Heck, she might be one now if she didn't look like a drowned rat, Spike thought randomly. The strange girl saved him the trouble of having to look up at her when she knelt by the couch and smiled brightly at him.

"You the healer?" Spike found himself asking incredulously.

"Judith Williams, at your service," she replied, a smile remaining on her lips. "But you can call me Jude. Just about everyone does. She looked the vampire up and down quickly. "You don't look very good at all. Don't worry, though. I've got just the thing to fix you right up."

Jude looked to Xander, then paused before looking back to Spike. "Will you allow me to examine your human?"

Both the request and the formality in which it was spoken surprised the vampire. There was definite respect in her voice, something Spike had not heard in a while. There was also recognition. Somehow this girl knew who, or rather what, he was, and she knelt before him without a trace of fear. Not only that, but she was aware that master vampires had certain protocols when dealing with normal humans, something even the Slayer didn't even realize. Of course, the Slayer definitely didn't fall under the category of 'normal human'. Spike's tense body eased a degree. If this girl was smart enough to know to ask permission before touching what she saw as his, then she knew what would happen to her if she hurt the boy.

Spike nodded to Jude wordlessly and she leaned forward to feel Xander's forehead gently. At her touch, Xander seemed to come back to reality and turned slightly to look at the new girl in the room.

"Hi," he spoke, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Something about this new person made him feel better just by looking at her.

Jude returned the boy's smile. "Hi yourself, cutie."

The healer's fingers brushed lightly against the butterfly bandages on Xander's forehead, before moving down to his chest. Spike watched as Jude's hand hovered just shy of touching young Xander's chest, her eyes distant as if she were peering at things only visible to her. Almost a minute later, her hand finally moved toward the wound on Xander's arm. She snapped back from wherever she had been when Xander flinched at her feather-light touch to his arm and smiled reassuringly at him.

"You must be a really brave boy to face down monsters," she commented

"The monsters hurt me," Xander informed her solemnly. "And Spike too."

Jude nodded. "I know. Will you let me make you feel better?"

At the question, the boy's shyness returned full force. He didn't like going to the doctor. But the other lady had been really nice. He bit on his lower lip nervously. "Will it hurt," he whispered.

"Not a bit. Cross my heart," Jude reassured him just as quietly. "I'll even let Spike stay the whole time, ok?"

Xander seemed about to agree when a thought occurred to the boy. "Will you help Spike too?"

Jude broke out into a full-fledged smile at the remark. It transformed her face from run of the mill attractive, into a beauty that somehow eluded definition. 

"Of course I will, silly," Jude answered the boy's nervous question, 100 watt smile still in place. He gave Spike a sidelong glance. "That is, as long as he will let me."

Xander finally nodded. "Okay."

With one last encouraging look to the six-year-old, Jude turned to Dawn. "I've got some blood in my backpack. Could you take it into the kitchen and get someone to heat it up. The vampire's about three pints low."

"Sure thing," Dawn answered automatically as she picked up the indicated backpack. She still couldn't believe people were actually including her. "Be back in a few."

When Dawn had left the room, Jude's attention refocused to the remaining occupants of the couch. Without a word, she leaned forward and kissed Xander on the center of his forehead. As her lips touched his skin, she began to glow dimly. Her features became backlit and her eyes shone as she ended the motherly kiss and looked down at Xander with a smile that he returned at a moment. 

Spike could do nothing but gape at the sudden change in her. One moment, she was an awkward, relatively unremarkable teenage girl, the next she was awash with Power. It wasn't demonic or magic-induced like with the witches, but something from within, an inner fire that was all too human, but no less extraordinary. Spike felt this Power flow into Xander, cooling the fever and purging the demon toxins from his afflicted system. The gash on Xander's forehead healed without a mark before his eyes and the vampire was sure the same thing must have been happening to the slashes on the boy's arm. Jude then put a glowing hand to Xander's chest and light spread though the boy's entire body before diffusing completely.

Jude slumped slightly as the glow left her, breathing hard. After a moment, she looked up to see Xander blinking drowsily. "Feel better?" she asked, still panting slightly.

"Yeah," he answered through a huge yawn. "Sleepy."

Jude cupped his cheek in her hand affectionately. "You go on and sleep, cutie. You'll be as good as new in the morning."

Xander yawned again and rubbed at his eyes. "You'll help Spike?"

Jude chuckled. "I promised, didn't I?"

"Good," Xander replied, his eyes slipping closed.

"Spike?" Xander asked, half-asleep.

"Yeah?"

"G'night."

"Good night, whelp," Spike returned as he brushed few stray locks of hair away from the boy's eyes.

Giles chose that moment to enter, a mug of steaming blood in his hand. Spike wordlessly took the offered sustenance, drained it in one swallow and set it down on the coffee table.

"Is he going to be all right?" Giles asked tentatively looking at the now uninjured boy in amazement.

"He'll be fine." The healer stuck her hand out in Giles' direction. "Judith Williams. Call me Jude."

Giles shook the offered hand. "Rupert Giles."

Jude gave the Watcher a quick smile before turning back to Spike. "Would you mind giving your human over to Mr. Giles for a few minutes? He won't leave your sight; I'll let Mr. Giles stay here the whole time."

Both Spike and Giles stared at Jude. Healers were known for wanting to keep their privacy. No one, save the people being healed was ever privy to what went on during a healing. Giles was floored by the fact she had healed anyone in the presence of a vampire, much less offered to heal the vampire as well. And now, she was going to let him be here during her most vulnerable moments.

Spike's thoughts were along the same lines. Healers never interacted with the demon world, at least as far as he knew. He seriously thought that Jude had been humoring Xander when she promised the boy she'd heal him as well. He also knew that healers avoided the Watcher's Council like the plague. He didn't blame them. If she lived in Sunnydale, she had to know that Rupert Giles was a former Watcher. But she was willing to let him witness a healing, something most Watchers would give their first born to see, just to reassure Spike that _his_ human would come to no harm.

Even so, it was with reluctance that Spike handed the now sleeping boy to Jude, who in turn gave him to a nonplused Giles. The boy safely in his arms, Giles watched as Jude kneeled beside the vampire once more. She looked up until her eyes met the vampire's and held his gaze, even as she eyes became distant once again. Her hand went to the back of his head, settling against his short-cropped hair.

"You can't bite, can you?" she asked, still looking at something only she could see.

Spike looked down in embarrassment. "No," he answered quietly.

"Bastards," Jude muttered. "The fools had no idea what they were dealing with." She cocked her head to one side. "Something good came of it, though."

Spike snorted. "Oh, yeah, and what was that?"

Jude didn't answer. Her eyes once again completely focused on Spike's and she smiled at him sadly. "I don't have the strength to undo what they did to you. I'm sorry."

"You've got nothing to apologize for, pet," he told her. "You've healed the whelp. That's all I wanted."

Spike was treated to another one of Jude's 100-watt smiles at the statement. He wondered what he'd done to deserve it. "I'm glad to see you still have your priorities, Spike."

__

"What the hell is she talking about?" Spike thought. He looked to Jude for answers, but was unprepared for the mischievous smirk on her face.

He was even less prepared when she kissed him full on the lips.

This kiss definitely wasn't as chaste as the last one. Spike tensed for a moment, and would have pulled away if not for the surprisingly strong hand still on the back of his head. Then he tasted it: warm, coppery blood slowly trickling from her mouth into his. Realizing her intent he returned the kiss gently, his own hand moving to the back of her hand. In the background, Giles looked on in confusion. To him, the two looked like a young couple showing their affection. That is, until he felt Power start to build in the room.

The healer's blood slid down his throat and Spike's body started to tingle. As Jude pulled away from him, the world went hazy even as the healer came into sharper focus. The light he'd noticed before when she'd healed Xander was back and increased tenfold. Her curly hair sparkled where loose strands fell around her face as if the sun was shining down upon her. A bright glow encircled her hands and lit up her green eyes. She was breathtaking.

Spike gasped softly, but it sounded far away to him, removed from the here and now. "I know you," he recalled with sudden clarity. "You came, before . . . ."

Jude smiled the same the same heart-stopping smile from moments before. "I know," she stated, laughter in her voice. "I remember. You made quite an impression."

She held his gaze for a moment longer before placing her glowing hands on his abdomen. He gasped again when he felt the Power flow through him firsthand. It flooded him, that was the only way his mind could describe it. The power swept through his body, taking away the frantic hunger of bloodloss and the pain of his injuries. It left Spike floating.

Giles watched the entire scene in awe. The light died away, and when his vision cleared, she saw Spike smile at the healer. It wasn't his usual smirk, or sardonic grin. There was no edge to it at all, only gratitude. Spike's entire attitude was different. Usually the vampire was predatory and tense around him and the others, ready to fight at any moment. Now, Spike was relaxed and . . . tranquil, Giles realized with a start. He was at peace.

The Englishman gave Xander up without protest when Jude came to retrieve him. She handed him to Spike who cradled him to his chest gently before succumbing to exhausted slumber much like the boy had after his healing. Jude looked down at the two tenderly, a small smile gracing her now tired features. With the utmost care, she draped the afghan from the couch around the two, placing feather-light kisses on each of their brows.

"Sleep tight," she whispered.

Giles was pulled from the scene by Tara's entrance. She walked in and handed him a rather large stack of dark curtains. "We need to cover the windows. We don't want Spike turning into a pile of dust while he's sleeping on the couch."

Dawn entered the room carrying several curtain rods. "Mom found these at a yard sale a few months ago. She thought they'd be a good investment in case someone with a sun allergy ever needed to stay over, or whatever."

Giles followed Dawn to the living room's large windows, all the while wondering at both Joyce's forethought and the oddity of finding blackout curtains at a yard sale. Only in Sunnydale, he supposed with a shrug.

He and Dawn made short work of the living room windows, then retreated to the kitchen where Tara was busy straightening the mess from earlier. Jude was sitting at the table, looking even more exhausted than she had a few minutes ago. It looked like she would fall asleep in the chair if she sat there for much longer.

"Are you all right?" he asked the healer.

"Yeah," she told him with a wane smile. "I need to get home though. It takes fifteen minutes to walk and my grandma will be worried if I'm not back soon."

"You walked here?" Giles asked in shock. "After dark? You could have been attacked by any number of demons on the way over."

Jude rolled her eyes. "I've got a stake and a cross in my backpack. And anyway, vampires don't bite me."

"Why's that?" Tara asked curiously.

"They don't like the taste of my blood," Jude hedged.

"Spike seemed to like it just fine," Giles countered.

Jude winced. She should have known it was too much to hope that the Watcher hadn't noticed the blood exchange.

"Spike bit you!" Dawn sputtered. Tara just looked shocked.

"No!" Jude answered forcefully. She turned angry eyes to the Watcher. "I gave him the gift of my blood knowingly and of my own free will. With permission my blood can speed healing and recovery." Jude undid her watchband revealing a livid scar complete with two puncture wounds and a half moon of teeth marks. "A vampire tried to take my blood by force before. It wasn't a pretty sight." Jude sighed and pulled herself wearily to her feet. "As much as I'd like to get into this discussion, I really need to get home. Can I take a rain check on Healers 101 until I've slept for about a week?"

"Certainly," Giles told her gently. "But I still want to drive you home." He quieted Jude's argument with a wave of his hand. "It's the least I can do for you for helping Xander . . . and Spike. It will make me feel better to know you have gotten home safely." He didn't comment on the fact that the girl looked like she would fall over at any moment, as he didn't think it would help matters.

Looking at Giles' face, Jude knew arguing would just waste time, and nodded her assent to his offer. Tara stood as the two headed for the door and enfolded Jude into a hug.

"Thank you," she told the young healer.

Jude blushed. "No problem. It was my pleasure."

"Well thank you anyway," she told the girl again with a smile.

"Are those two going to be staying here? I need to check up on them in a couple of days," Jude asked.

Tara nodded. "Drop by whenever you need."

"All right. See you in a couple of days, Tara. Good bye, Dawn." With a few last well wishes, Jude left the Summers' household, Giles not far behind.

Dawn yawned. "It's been a long day." She looked at Tara. "And just think, your week of baby-sitting has just started."

The two shared a quiet laugh as they reentered the living room. Spike was half sitting, half lying on the couch, his feet resting on the far arm. Though still bandaged and sporting a large assortment of bloodstains, his face appeared much more peaceful relaxed in sleep. His now thoroughly tousled hair sticking up in all directions did little to detract from the tranquil picture he portrayed. Neither did the small dark headed boy sleeping curled up on his chest with one of Spike's arms still wrapped around him protectively.

"Aww," Dawn cooed quietly, then stopped herself. "Wait, no, not cute. Vampires holding little kids are not supposed to inspire cutesy feelings and stomach flutters."

"You're right," Tara stated, a tiny grin turning up the corner of her mouth. "On both counts."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Only on the Hellmouth. Good night, Tara."

"Good night," Tara called softly as Dawn retreated to her room upstairs.

After she heard Dawn's door shut, she turned back to the house's newest occupants. Gazing at them it was easy to forget that one was a master vampire with over a hundred years of torture and mayhem to his record and the other had been a nineteen-year-old up until a few hours ago. At the moment, they looked like family, a father and son sleeping after a long day. She didn't know why, but for some reason the scene stirred something deep within her, some basic instinct.

This was right, unorthodox and unheard of, but meant to be in Tara's mind. No way was it a coincidence that whatever happened to Xander occurred in a graveyard Spike frequented. The vampire was meant to find the frightened young boy and care for him. You only had to watch the two to see it. Spike protected him above even himself and Xander trusted the vampire with the wholehearted sincerity only the very young could muster.

Tara shivered despite the mild night. Something big was happening; she could feel greater forces flowing through the very air around everything around her. She just hoped all of her friends were ready for the change.

* * * * *

TBC. . . __

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this part. Quick question: I'm thinking of writing a short fic about what happens with Giles and Jude while he drives her home. If you guys are interested, tell me and I'll write out the little idea I have. I promise the next chapter won't take that long. I've got about twenty more pages to type before I get to the place I'm at in writing at the moment, so that's a good couple of chapters more. I'm sure my mind will kick back into gear by then.


	6. Chapter 5: The Inevitable Trip to WalMa...

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Title: Outside Humanity

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Author: Drake Roberts (aka: Shelley)

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Rating: R, because some people are just sheltered. If you watch the show, and curse like a sailor, you'll be fine.

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A/N: I got a new laptop last night, and this chapter is the first thing I'm using it for. Well, okay, I did let my roommate watch a Ricky Martin DVD on it first, but I couldn't resist the leather pants. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I wasn't expecting any reaction from this story, to tell you the truth, so the feedback has been great. My writer's block is gone, so expect more soon. And keep up the feedback. Suggestions are also welcome. I have a pretty clear idea of how this is going to go, but if there's something specific you'd like to see, tell me. I make no promises on including it, though. Anyway, on with the story.

* * * * *

Interlude

The thunder woke Tara up before she heard the light tapping on the bedroom door. She opened it, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Dawn? What's wrong?"

Dawn's look turned sheepish. "It's embarrassing. I . . .forget it. Don't worry about it. I'll just go." Thunder boomed overhead and Dawn tensed where she stood in the doorway.

"Dawn?"

The younger Summers played with the bottom of her T-shirt. "I. . .don't like thunder so much. Ever since I was little it made me think something bad was going to happen when it started." She shrugged. "Like I said, it's stupid."

Tara put an arm around Dawn's shoulders. "It's not stupid. Do you want to stay in here with me?"

Dawn smiled shyly. "Yeah," she said, clearly relieved she wasn't getting laughed at. "But just for a while until the thunder stops."

She crawled unto the bed beside Tara and slipped under the covers before leaning against the headboard. Tara copied her movements and the two sat there in companionable silence. She listened to the sounds of the storm, covertly keeping an eye on her temporary charge. The thunder and lightning made Dawn fidgety, however and she couldn't stay quiet for long.

"Spike weird for a vampire, you know?" Dawn finally stated, unable to take the silence any longer. "Does he seem weird to you?

"I . . .I don't really know any vampires," Tara answered. "And I've hardly talked to Spike before tonight." Tara paused for a moment, weighing her thoughts. "But he isn't what I expected from what Willow told me."

"Me either," Dawn replied. "Buffy said he was nothing but a big pain in the ass. - "

"Dawn!"

Dawn ducked her head sheepishly. "Sorry. But she did. I didn't see what she meant from the way he acted tonight."

"But he's still a vampire," Tara explained to the girl. "Sure, he can't hurt us right now, but that doesn't mean you can let your guard down. He's still a demon."

Dawn looked at Tara disbelievingly. "We left him downstairs, ALONE, with a six-year-old."

Tara looked uncomfortable. She knew Spike was a soulless demon who held no real remorse for his actions. But she'd trusted him with a child, an injured child at that. She didn't know how he'd earned that trust, but looking at the two of them had assured her that Xander would come to no harm while under Spike's watchful gaze. She held no illusions about vampires being well-meaning, yet horribly misunderstood creatures. Vampires were hunters, and humans were the prey. But something had told her she could trust the bleach blonde vampire. . .something just at the edge of her mind that she couldn't quite place.

"Spike bled an awful lot," Dawn said, interrupting Tara's mental debate.

"What?"

"He bled a lot. His lips were gray, and he kinda spaced out for a while. And he was shivering, just like a human in shock."

"Yeah, I saw that," Tara agreed. She was still confused though. "What's this about, Dawn?"

"He never vamped out," Dawn pointed out. She witnessed the comprehension creep into Tara's face and quickly continued. "He was, like majorly drained, carrying a young, defenseless, bleeding boy clutched to his chest and it didn't affect him at all. You know he had to need the blood, but he didn't blink twice at Xander, despite the fact that a fairly large amount of Xander's blood was on him. Any other vamp would have lunged at the free meal. He never even seriously entertained the idea or the way I understand it, his chip would have zapped him."

Tara blinked. "He didn't even look at us for food." Suddenly it clicked. That was why she knew that she could trust him. It wasn't the fact that he'd brought Xander here of his own free will, or that he was unconscious on the living room couch at the moment. It wasn't even because of the chip and his unsteady alliance with Buffy and the other Scoobies. No, in the end, her reasoning was more basic and at the same time doubly perplexing. Spike was a self-admitted predator, Tara realized and excepted this as fact. But one thing had become clear to her tonight. He didn't see any of the three of them as prey.

* * * * *

Chapter Five

The first things Spike became aware of the soft cushions underneath him. The second thing was the warm bundle snuggled up on his chest. God, what had he done last night? No hangover, so that ruled out his initial thoughts. He ran his hand over his face, trying to grasp at the bits of memories fluttering through his sleep-addled brain.

Then he smelled it. Blood. . .and not just his own.

Spike opened his eyes and stared down at the top of Xander's head. The boy lay curled up on his chest, fast asleep, completely oblivious to the fact that his pillow was wondering if insanity was hereditary in the order of Aurelius. What the hell was he doing? He was a master vampire, for pity's sake! This child, this WHELP should be cowering in a corner, wetting himself in terror at merely the sight of a creature such as him, not snuggling. His demon should be raging at him to snatch up the boy, drain him dry, and use his delicate bones to pick his teeth afterwards. Apparently his demon had other ideas. It liked the boy.

But that was impossible; he didn't go around forming attachments to humans, especially not the whelp. Still, he could almost hear the declaration, "Mine" ringing through his head as he continued to stare at the boy sleeping on his chest. His boy.

Said child chose that moment to begin to stir from his slumber. Xander's head lifted and sleepy brown eyes met Spike's through tousled dark hair. Xander blinked a few times in confusion, before his face lit up in recognition.

Spike smiled despite himself. "Morning, rugrat. Feeling better?"

"Yup," the boy answered, continuing to smile cheerily. "Did the nice lady fix you too?" he asked.

"Yes she did," Spike told him, still surprised that anyone really cared one way or the other whether he was well and whole.

"Good." With no warning Spike found himself being hugged enthusiastically before Xander slid off of his chest to stand beside the couch.

"Don't vampires sleep in coffins?" he asked as Spike moved to a sitting position on the couch.

"Only the really stupid ones," Spike replied with a grin. Xander giggled, then grabbed Spike's hand in both of his much smaller ones. "Come on," the little boy urged, tugging on the vampire's arm. "Let's go find the good witch and the shiny girl."

With a sigh Spike left the couch and let himself be led by the eager little boy, all the while mentally berating himself for being a complete and utter git. As he watched Xander however, completely recovered from the demon attack and full of barely contained energy, a small, contente smile came to his lips unbidden.

The search didn't last long. They found Tara in the kitchen mixing what appeared to be pancake batter in a large bowl. She turned and smiled when she saw Xander tugging enthusiastically on Spike's arm.

"Morning, Spike." She walked over to Xander and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Good morning, Sweetie." 

"Morning, Good Witch," he answered with a shy smile as a blush rose to his cheeks.

Tara giggled at the name. "Feeling better, are you?"

Xander nodded enthusiastically. "Uh huh. A bunch better. Heaps, tons, lots and lots." Xander stood on his tiptoes trying to see over the counter. "What are you making in the bowl?" he asked he young witch.

"Making pancakes," she answered with a sly grin. "But I'm sure you wouldn't want any."

"No, I like pancakes," Xander disagreed. "Can I have some?"

"Well, I don't know," Tara started, pretending she was actually thinking it over.

Xander looked up at her, eyes wide and pleading. "Please," he asked.

Tara decided right then and there that if Xander ever had kids, he would not be allowed to teach them that look. Otherwise she'd never be able to say no to them. As it was, after one look from his big brown eyes she was already completely gone. He was getting anything he wanted.

"Yes, you're getting pancakes," she answered with an exasperated laugh. "We're all eating them."

Xander cheered in triumphant victory, still holding onto two fingers of Spike's hand like a security blanket. After a moment, his exuberance dropped down a few notches and he looked back up at Tara.

"Hey, where's Shiny Girl?" he asked suddenly.

Tara frowned. "Who?"

"Dawn," Spike supplied.

Tara looked at the vampire for an explanation. All she got in reply was a one-armed shrug and a look that clearly said I didn't even understand him as an adult. She filed it away to think about later.

"She's upstairs if you want to say good morning," Tara informed him.

Xander looked back at Spike, silently asking permission to go looking for the girl.

"Go on, whelp," Spike told him. "Find the little nibblet."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Xander raced up the stairs in search of the now older girl. Tara and Spike stood in the kitchen doorway, gazes locked in the direction he went.

"He's very. . .rambunctious this morning," Spike commented uncertainly.

"And he hasn't even had sugar yet," Tara added, a note of dread creeping into her voice.

Spike looked over at Tara. "You do realize he's going to be the death of us, right?"

"Yep, we're so screwed."

* * * * *

"Hello, folks. Welcome to Wal-Mart!"

Spike jumped back at the explosive, raspy bellow. The man in the blue vest sounded like he'd been chainsmoking longer than Spike had roamed the earth.

"Bloody hell! Warn someone next time before you go spoutin' off at the mouth!" Spike exclaimed as he grabbed a random cart, idly hoping all the wheels rolled.

Tara smiled half-heartedly at the befuddled man before heading off after the vampire, Dawn and Xander in tow.

"Spike, wait up!" Xander called as he tugged on Dawn's hand to make her go faster.

After much pushing and pulling the three finally caught up with Spike as he was stashing the purple and white striped golf umbrella they'd brought as "direct sunblock" into the cart.

"You got the list, Glinda?" Spike asked Tara.

Tara pulleda piece of notebook paper out of her bag. "We just need a few essentials: T-shirts, shorts, socks, underwear, some food. We'll be out of here in an hour at most."

"Yeah, Spike," Dawn chimed in. "We'll be back at the house by the time it finally stops raining."

"I bloody well hope so," Spike grumbled. "I don't want to have to run around with my duster over my head."

"Why can't we just get my clothes out of my room?"

All conversation within the group stopped at Xander's quiet question. The three turned to look at the boy who returned their gazes with unmasked curiosity.

"Well. . . ," Tara began. "You see, sweetie, your parents don't exactly. . .know you are with us."

Xander's eyes widened. "My mom and dad lost me?"

"No!" Tara exclaimed. The last thing they needed was for Xander to start shouting about missing from his parents. She racked her brain for any kind of explanation.

Xander looked at Dawn. "Are you robbers?" 

Dawn shook her head.

"Kidnappers?"

"No," Tara answered quickly, hoping that no one was overhearing this conversation. "we're -"

"Murderers?"

With a smirk, Spike opened his mouth to field that one, but a quick elbow and glare from the younger Summers silenced him. Damn, the Slayer could learn a few things from her little sis if that look were any indication.

"No," Tara reassured him.

Xander's eyes narrowed in suspision. "Armenians?"

"Armen-? What?" Spike interrupted. Where the blazes had the kid dug that up? He was going to end this little guessing game before the humans got a little too nosy. "Look, you know that Tara's a witch, right?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, she's a good witch."

Spike smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way. "Well, the fact of the matter is, there's a spell on you. We don't know who did it. You don't remember, but you're actually older than you think you are."

"Really?" Xander asked, apparently willing to believe the vampire thus far.

"Yep, really?"

"How old am I?"

"Well," Spike began. "You're old enough that your mum and dad don't take care of you any more."

"How old is that?"

"Nineteen, I think," Spike answered uncertainly. How was he supposed to know how old the whelp was before being turned into a rugrat.

The six-year-old's jaw dropped in amazement. "Wow, that's old!"

Dawn smirked. "Yep, you have. . .well had a job and everything."

"So I'm supposed to be old?" Xander concluded. "Will I ever get changed back?"

"Of course you will," Tara reassured him. "But until find a way to break the spell, you're staying with us. We're kind of like your babysitters."

"Except we don't get paid," Spike amended.

The young boy went quiet for a few moments, letting all of the new information sink in. Tara, Dawn, and Spike all waited for his reaction, hoping it wouldn't be too vocal or result in them getting arrested for kidnapping.

"You okay?" Tara asked, kneeling down to Xander's level.

Xander shrugged. "Yeah. Hey, can we get ice cream?"

"Sure." Tara blinked. He was certainly taking this well. Maybe he didn't fully grasp the situation.

"Rocky Road?"

"Mmmm," Dawn moaned. "We gotta get some of that! And Moose Tracks. No night of fun is complete without it."

Xander looked at her in confusion. "Moose Tracks?"

Dawn's eyes widened. "You've never eaten Moose Tracks?" 

Xander shook his head.

"You'll love it!" She turned to Tara. "I'll get the ice cream and food while you guys pick up some clothes for little Xan." Without another word she trotted off toward the grocery half of the Supercenter.

Tara watched her go. After a moment, she decided Dawn could handle getting the groceries by herself. And it would get them out of here that much faster. "You ready to get some clothes?" she asked the boy beside her.

"Okay, Good Witch."

* * * * *

"Spike! Look out for the -"

CRASH!

". . . . .I don't think anyone will miss those watermelons, pet."

* * * * *

"Oi! Whelp! Get down from there before I climb up the shelves after you."

Xander just giggled in response.

* * * * *

"What do you think about this T-shirt, Xander?"

"Oh, come on, Glinda. That's worse than the trash the whelp usually wears. Why can't any of you Scoobies where normal clothing?"

"Can I get a big black coat like yours?" Xander asked.

"Sure thing, rugrat."

"Woohoo!" Xander crowed. "Then I can be a big, bad monster killer like you!"

"We'll make a right pair, the two of us."

"Spike, don't encourage him," Tara scolded. The smile on her face contradicted her stern tone, however."

* * * * *

"Dawn, we are not getting those."

Dawn threw Tara a very melodramatic pout. "Why not?"

"We don't need any water guns."

"Please?"

Tara rolled her eyes in exasperation. She was such a pushover. "All right. But you get to explain to your mom if anything happens to the house."

Dawn smiled as she put them in the cart. "What could happen?"

"You just had to say that, didn't you?" Spike asked the girl with a scowl.

* * * * *

Four cart crashes, two arguments, and one attempted murder by plastic coat hanger later, the four shoppers exited Wal-Mart into the still near torrential downpour, heavily burdened with blue plastic sacks and nearly one hundred dollars poorer.

"Why did we buy all this again?" Dawn asked as she helped stuff bags into Spike's DeSoto. It was the only car between the three of them, after all.

"It's inevitable," Tara explained. "Everytime someone enters a Wal-Mart they end up spending at least twice as much as they planned. Besides, considering Xander's clothes, all the junk food, and the blood we coaxed out of the butcher, I think we did all right."

Tara didn't mention the six disposable cameras she'd also purchased. After the warm fuzzy inducing images last night of Spike and Xander asleep on the couch, she had to keep a photograph record of all of this even if it was just for her. Plus, she figured Dawn would want some pictures with her and "little Xan". Tara smirked. And you never knew when quality blackmail material might come in handy.

Tara sighed. "We're all here and in one piece. Mission accomplished."

"Yeah. That trick with the clothes hanger was top notch, ducks," Spike commented. "You'll have to share your secret with me sometime." Tara blushed at the unexpected praise.

Bags safely stowed away, the four piled into Spike's car, escaping the rain, for a time.

"So, where are we going next?" Xander asked Spike from where he sat by Dawn in the backseat.

Spike smirked evilly. "The movie store."

* * * * *

__

TBC. . . 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next up: Angel!


	7. Chapter 6: Tanktops, Skulking, and Coff...

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Title: Outside Humanity

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Author: Drake Roberts (aka: Shelley)

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Rating: R, just in case I get the urge to write some bloody carnage.

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A/N: My laptop and I are a writing powerhouse! Now don't get me wrong, I LOVE all the Xander and Spike cuteness, and the happenings in the Summers' household, but I just had to bring in Angel and Cordy. Sorry about the long update gap again. I've been doing a production of Our Town, so between that, and my day job, and the ever-growing amount of plot bunnies demanding equal attention, my already short attention span was stretched to its limit. But, the play's over which means, more free time for me! One other quick note: This chapter had one of my friends laughing out loud. Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean you will. Enjoy!

* * * * *

Angel was awoken from a very nice dream involving Marilyn Monroe, a moon lit beach and strawberries by the sound of a slamming door and some very imaginative swearing. The souled vampire rushed into the room, pulling a T-shirt on as he went and got Cordelia's attention as she ending her litany of profanity.

"Cordy? What is it? What happened?" he asked, still trying to wake up the rest of the way.

"Can I get through one stinking audition without something all whacko happening? No! The stupid Powers That Be -" Cordelia paused in her tirade to flip off the heavens. "- have to send me a friggin' vision in the middle of the cold reading."

Angel's brain started to work at the word 'vision'. "Cordy -" he began only to be cut off by the still fuming Cordelia.

"I do their grunt work and endure EXTREME pain so that you can 'help the hopeless' and get yourself all Shanshu-ed. Doesn't that give me the right to a little personal time?"

"But what about -"

"I mean it's not like I'm asking for insurance or a 401k or anything. Though that would be really nice."

"CORDY!"

"What?! Can't you see I'm venting here?"

"The vision, Cordelia. What did you see?"

"That's the whole point!" Cordelia snarled. "Those PTB pains in the asses sent me a vision for no reason."

Angel blinked. His brain still refused to analyze anything other than the fact that Cordy was spewing nonsense and that the plain white tank top she wore accentuated her. . .tan quite nicely.

"Angel are you even listening to me?" Cordy asked. "You're giving me Confused Face. If you were anyone else I'd say you were shamelessly ogling my cleavage. Can we get back to my fake vision, please?"

Angel shook himself from his. . .tan induced stupor. "What do you mean fake vision? What did you see?"

"Well it started out simple enough; you know, little kid in trouble, big monsters trying to eat im. They chased him into some kind of crypt in the graveyard. But then Spike swoops in, kills the demons, and saves the day. If they already had someone to take care of it, then why'd they even bother with the killer migraine?"

Angel shrugged. "I don't know, Cordy, maybe they - wait a second did you say Spike?"

"Uh, yeah. Are you going to deaf in your old age?"

"Spike saved a kid?"

Cordelia scowled. "Yeah. Again with the Beltone."

"We need to go to Sunnydale." Angel's face was the picture of doom and gloom.

"W-why?" Cordelia sputtered. "I told you, the vision took care of itself."

"We have to find Spike and figure out what he's planning," Angel answered, already grabbing his coat.

"Whoa, time out! What's the rush. It's not like I saw him going on a rampage. He was killing demons. I have yet to see a downside."

"Exactly. This is _Spike _we're talking about. There has to be an ulterior motive."

Cordelia mouth turned downward in a confused frown. "For saving a little boy?"

"The Spike I know wouldn't save anything unless there was something in it for him." Angel shoved a few random articles of clothing into an overnight bag. "There's no telling what he could be doing with the kid right now."

* * * * *

"I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog, too!"

Xander huddled further under the blanket he'd wrapped himself in. "She doesn't hurt Toto, does she, Spike?" he asked the vampire he sat beside in a tiny voice.

"Course not," Spike answered confidently. "That little dog's a lot tougher than he looks."

Xander frowned. The Wicked Witch of the West continued to cackle as she flew away. "I hope Toto bites her."

Spike gave Xander's shoulder a quick squeeze while Tara started to giggle from her place on the other side of the boy. "I always wished that Glinda would turn her into a toad."

"That would be so cool!" Xander answered with a smile. "If she was here, you'd kick her butt, wouldn't you?"

"I don't kick people's butts," Tara told him with a grin.

"Not ever?" Xander asked disbelievingly. Tara was a good witch; she fought the monsters just like Spike, right? "Not even if she tried to hurt someone?"

Tara's grin grew. "If she tried to hurt anyone, I'd let Spike kick her butt and then turn her into a slug."

"Eeew!" Dawn exclaimed from where she lay on a pile of pillows on the floor. "Slugs are so nasty! Couldn't you turn her into something a little cuddlier? Like a bunny?"

"I like the slug idea, ducks," Spike replied.

"Ugh!" Dawn shuddered, scraping imaginary slugs from her arms. Xander giggled from underneath his blanket. "Yeah, a big gooey slimy slug. It would crawl over things like across your neck, sticky and slimy and -"

"Stop it!" Dawn shrieked, jumping from the floor and swiping across the back of her neck. She glared at the laughing boy. "You're evil." Xander just smiled at her sweetly.

"He's a right proper fledge," Spike told her proudly. "A devious little imp, through and through."

Dawn scowled. "Just for that, you're not getting any Moose Tracks, fledge."

"I'm sorry, Shiny Girl," Xander apologized, complete with trembling lip and big doe-eyes. He would have been the picture of contrition if not for the wicked gleam in his eye. "I won't say anything else about big slugs crawling all over you. Getting in your bed. Sliming your hair."

"Ahhh! Enough! I surrender. You're the master."

Xander crowed triumphantly while Tara tried not to fall off the couch in a laughing fit. Dawn stuck her tongue out at the aforementioned imp then flopped onto the couch next to Tara, pouting.

Xander's smile faded at the upset look on Dawn's face. He hadn't meant to make her mad; he was just teasing. He did the same thing to Willow all the time and she always forgave him. Well, except for when he stole her Barbie. Angry Willow scared him. He crept out from underneath his blanket and looked over at the younger Summers.

"Shiny Girl?"

No answer. She refused to acknowledge that he'd even spoken. Xander bit his lower lip as it began to tremble for real this time. Spike started to intervene, but Tara's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Dawn?" 

Still not a word from the teenager. Xander crawled over Tara's lap. "Dawn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Don't be mad at me, please?"

Dawn finally turned to face Xander and he saw not a frown of anger, but a tiny smirk of triumph. Xander got the sudden feeling that he'd been duped. Then Dawn attacked.

* * * * *

"Okay, why are we skulking around in Buffy's shrubbery again?"

"We're locating Spike," Angel answered quietly, his eyes focused straight ahead.

"In Buffy's shrubbery? I'm not even making the obvious remark to that one."

"Cordelia. Be serious for once."

"I am serious! And right now, I'm seriously pissed off. You've ruined a perfectly good pair of my sneakers just because you're too much of a fraidy cat to go knock on her door.

"I am not," Angel replied indignantly.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure, Angel. Just keep telling yourself that and maybe one day we'll get out of the bushes and start looking for your Billy Idol wannabe childe."

Their argument was abruptly cut off by a frightened shriek from inside the house. "Aah! Stoppit! Help!"

Angel was already bolting for the door before a follow up feminine cry sounded. "Spike!"

That incentive brought his demon face forward. Spike was due a good torture session. He owed him one, after all.

"Aah! Stoppit!" Xander shrieked. "Help!" he gasped, trying to get air through his uncontrollable laughter.

Dawn cackled evilly and continued her tickle attack without mercy. "Who's the master, little boy? Come on, who is it?"

Xander just shook his head stubbornly and laughed with helpless abandon. This time it was Tara who moved to intercept and was stopped by Spike.

"Now, now, Goodwitch, no fair interfering. Let the kids duke it out. He's got to learn somehow."

She watched Dawn as she straddled Xander, pinning his flailing legs to the floor, and batted his hands aside with one hand while running up and down his sensitive sides with the other. Xander was screaming for help, Dawn was cackling like a hyena, and both of them were giggling and smiling like fools. It was the picture of children at play. 

"They're gonna break something," Tara argued, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face. The lighthearted mood was contagious, evidently. She looked at Spike and her smile morphed into a smirk. "Besides, what could you do to stop me?"

Tara started to grow concerned at the gleefully evil smile that came to Spike's lips at her challenge. She was right to worry.

"Spike!" she cried as she futilely tried to dodge the skillful fingers that went for her sides. 

Within seconds she was on the floor beside Xander, Spike pinning her hands above her head with one hand and tickling expertly with the other. He looked over at the younger Summers and the two shared an evil grin before he shifted his focus back to the wiccan. "Who's helpless now, eh?" he crowed.

Tara was too busy trying to breath to notice at first when Spike's weight was lifted off of her, but the sound of him being slammed against the living room wall snapped her back to reality. Tara immediately tried to grab the large man and explain the misunderstanding. However, when said man pulled out a stake her focus shifted to stopping the wood from penetrating Spike's chest.

"I knew you couldn't be trusted!" Angel shouted.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Spike was still trying to figure out why his grandsire was even in Sunnydale, much less attacking him in the Slayer's house. However, he did recognize the wooden stake that was pulled from Angel's coat pocket and his eyes widened at the implications. He was about to die, staked by his grandsire and for quite possibly the first time in his existence he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

Just inches from its destination, Angel's arm was stopped by two feminine hands. Normally the fact that someone was actually trying to prevent the bleach blonde's final death would have caused the souled vampire to pause and reevaluate the situation. Unfortunately, his demonic side was maniacally chanting, "Kill, kill, KILL!" and for one of the first times in over one hundred years, his guilt-ridden, curse-imposed conscience was agreeing. 

Angel held onto Spike with one hand and sent a swift elbow behind him. The figure cried out in pain, her hold on him disappeared, and he heard her topple to the ground behind him. Now to take care of his meddling hellspawn of a relative.

His mind barely registered Spike's inhuman growl before a fist connected solidly with his chin. Any normal human would have gotten a broken jaw from the force behind the blow. As it was, his head snapped back and when his vision refocused he was faced with Spike in game face looking ready to rip his throat out.

"Pick on somebody your own size, pillock!" he shouted.

Angel paused at the vampire's strange outburst. Spike took the opportunity to try to get a jump on the larger and more experienced vampire. The vampire's renewed attack snapped Angel's mind back onto autopilot. He grabbed Spike by the lapels of his jacket and launched him across the room. The now airborne vampire collided abruptly with the far wall and slid to the floor, dazed.

Dawn ran to Tara's side and helped her to her feet. "We've got to get Angel away from Spike before one of them dusts the other!"

"Good luck with that one," Cordelia snorted as she came up beside the two. "He's gone all "grr" on us. Nothing short of an explosion will stop him right now."

"STOP IT!"

Dawn, Tara and Cordelia turned at the shout. Tara and Dawn paled alarmingly. Xander was standing in front of Spike's slumped form glaring up at Angel defiantly.

"Oh Goddess," Tara whispered.

"It's the kid I saw," Cordelia realized. "Who is he?"

Angel returned the child's glare, his anger still very much in control. "Get out of the way, kid. You don't know what you're protecting."

"You can't hurt him. I won't let you," Xander answered just as angrily.

Angel couldn't help smirking at the young boy's audacity. This. . .child dared to stand up to him. The thought made something dark inside of him, normally relatively dormant, unfurl and fill him with insidious amusement.

"You think you can stop me, boy?"

A shiver of unbridled terror ran down Tara's spine at the souled vampire's words. She shifted her stance to put her in front of Dawn and frantically began searching her memory for any spell she could use against him.

Xander stood between Spike and the impossibly tall vampire who had threatened his newest friend. He knew the monster in front of him wanted nothing more than to kill Spike, could feel it somehow. No matter how much the vampire looming over him scared him, he was going to protect his friend. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, a peculiar feeling came over him. The strange man in front of him and his patronizing tone triggered something. He didn't know what made him say it, but the words came tumbling out before he realized he'd even spoken.

"You're gonna die, and I'm gonna be there."

Those words stopped Angel in his tracks. Behind him, Cordelia gasped in shock. For a second, Angel saw not a small boy in front of him, but a dark haired young man with enough loyalty toward his friends to look Angelus in the face and not flinch.

"Xander?" he asked. The boy's only response was to narrow his eyes in suspicion. There was no recognition there. What was going on? Why had Xander been turned into a child and why was he protecting Spike? With reflexes that defied all natural laws he grabbed Xander by his arm and dragged him away from his grandchilde. "Xander, is that you? What's happened?"

Xander squirmed in Angel's grip, the vampire's hands digging into his small arm. "Oww! Hey, lemme go! Let me go!"

"Angel, let him go," Dawn spoke with quiet urgency.

He turned and saw Dawn's pale face. He was slowly realizing he'd misjudged the entire situation. "What? Why?"

Dawn swallowed. "Cuz Tara can only hold Spike down for so long."

Angel turned back to his grandchilde and felt a chill run down his back. Spike was in game face snarling and clawing for more leverage against the floor, desperately trying to get off the ground. Across the room, a small trickle of sweat ran down Tara's temple as she focused on keeping up the spell that was holding him there.

"Get your hands off of him!" Spike's words were more growled than spoken.

Angel reflexively let go of the boy in shock. He reaction wasn't because Spike threatened him; Spike did that every time he saw him. What surprised Angel was the tone. Spike's instincts for self-preservation surpassed any creature's he'd ever met. Despite his bragging to the contrary, Spike knew he couldn't win against his grandsire in a fair fight. It was one of the reasons Spike was so dangerous. Despite the soul, the blonde vampire knew the demon inside was still Angelus. He knew this and never for a second underestimated the souled counterpart. Spike made sure that when he faced Angel he had an edge.

But this Spike who moved immediately for Xander as Tara's spell was broken, his threat was astonishingly clear. He wouldn't have hesitated to fight him over the boy, despite the fact he couldn't win. He'd fight, lose, and quite possibly die to protect what he considered his. Angel recognized this mindset and was wary of its possible implications. He knew how dangerous Spike could be when someone close to him was threatened. The last time he'd seen the vampire like this, he'd found himself on the wrong end of a tire iron on the night he thought he was gaining the ultimate victory. When had Spike developed this attitude toward Xander?

Angel continued to observe as Spike searched Xander from head to foot for cuts or bruising, paying special attention to where Angel had held him. The boy's fingers lightly traced a bruise that was already darkening across Spike's cheekbone.

"Are you okay?" he heard Xander whisper.

Spike smiled down at the boy even though the action probably caused him pain. "Course I am. No bloody poofter like Peaches can get the best of me."

As the souled vampire watched the two's interaction, he became progressively more and more confused. None of this made sense. Why was Xander a child? Why was Spike apparently his guardian? And why was no one seriously disturbed by any of this?! Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"All right. What the hell is going on?!" he shouted.

Spike's head snapped around and he snarled at Angel visciously. The cycle of violence would have most assuredly started all over again if the Voice of Reason hadn't decided to step in.

"Angel! Stop with the macho vampire pissing contest already. We're all on the same side here. Either act like the supposedly mature being you are, or we're going home!"

Well, actually it was the Voice of Cordelia scolding him like a three year old that got Angel's head out of his ass, but what else would you expect from the May Queen?

"She's r-right," Tara agreed, also standing between the two vampires. "W-we all need to just c-calm down."

Dawn grabbed the still growling and protesting Spike and led he and Xander back over to the couch. Cordelia dragged her boss across to the other side of the room.

"Ok," Cordelia started as she turned around and faced the now united front of Dawn, Tara, Spike, and Xander, "Spill it."

Dawn shifted nervously where she sat between Tara and Xander. "It?"

"Yes, it." Cordelia affirmed.

Dawn swallowed nervously. "Well, I don't know if you could call it and "It" exactly. I'd call it more of a thing really. Or maybe a whole group of things bound together, or. . .or twisted so that they looked all different and It-ish." The girl stopped talking with an audible clack of her jaw, looking away sheepishly.

After a moment's pause on everyone parts, Tara raised her hand tentatively. "Wh-what was the question, again?"

Cordelia sighed wearily. "Why me," she muttered. She took a deep cleansing breath and tried to tell herself that the whole situation had to be stressful and killing people would not help matters. "What happened?" she asked as if speaking to rather slow children. "Why is Xander a four year old?"

"I'm six!" Xander cried indignantly from where he sat between Spike and Dawn. With a small smile, Dawn quickly shushed him.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. So what happened?"

"We. . .we don't know," Dawn answered the brunette woman with a shrug.

"You don't know," Angel repeated, coming to stand beside Cordelia and staring at the four of them as if he could pull all the answers out of their heads with his eyes.

Spike had decades of experience in tuning out the older vampire's, "Answer me, or else" glare, but Dawn and Tara looked like they wanted to disappear into the couch cushions and he could feel Xander tense up from where he was half-hiding himself behind Spike's arm. He scowled. Who did that bloody poof think he was barging into his domain and frightening the kiddies?

"That's right, Peaches," he spat scathingly. "We don't know. You need me to talk slower?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tara bite her lip to hid a grin and the Dawn's face lost some of its uncertainty and nervousness. He smirked at the impotent anger on Angel's face. Now that he'd calmed down, he realized that Spike was innocent in this instance and his pathetic little soul would let him lay a hand on him. But Spike could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to throttle him so badly. His helpless fury was a bitter draught he could taste in the back of his throat. Spike was loving every second of this new and exciting way to torture the soul-having moron.

"I found him in the cemetery. Some demons had decided he'd make a good midnight snack. I didn't even know it was the whelp until I'd saved him and started off to get him patched up. Slayer's out of town, so're Red and the demon bint, so I brought him over here to Glinda and the bit. End of story."

"Yeah, so back off of Spike, Deadboy," Dawn continued with a glare that would make any vampire think twice about crossing her. Angel stared at Dawn in mute shock and Spike had to use every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep from bursting out laughing. He could see the realization come to Angel's face. Dawn may be Buffy's sister, but in regards to Angel, her attitude was pure Xander. 

He smiled at the girl. "The whelp's been rubbing off on you, huh? Good for you."

Dawn blushed before turning her attention back to the souled vampire. "He's been helping. He saved Xander's life last night. He's like, a vampire superhero!"

Spike cringed at the words even as Angel gaped at Dawn, dumbstruck by the young girl's statement. 

"A vampire superhero?" Angel repeated, still in shock.

Small hands tugged at Spike's arm and he looked to his left. Xander stared up at him with wide eyes, but there was something else there too: a slight twinkling, and the very beginnings of a nervous smile. He pointed toward the souled one, and asked him in a slightly quavering voice:

"Spike, does he sleep in a coffin?" 

The blonde vampire blinked. He stared at Xander, who retuned the look that any adult would take as completely innocent curiosity. But Spike had one advantage that most others did not. He was a devious, manipulative git with a perchant for sarcasm and an evil streak a mile wide. Such people recognized their own.

Spike returned Xander's curious look with a serious one of his own. "Yes," he informed him solemnly. Xander's lips curled into a smirk that a six year old had no business wearing, and Spike felt laughter bubble up from his chest. "Yes he does."

He couldn't take it any longer. Spike erupted into a fit of very unvampire-like giggles with Xander only seconds behind him. Tara looked at the two in confusion. Cordelia stared at Spike like he had just declared he was becoming a Vegan monk. Angel took a step away from the couch in horror and began systematically scanning the remainder of the living room for pods. Dawn looked back and forth between the two gigglers and Angel for a few moments, then rolled her eyes.

"Ok, I give up," she declared. "What's so funny?"

"Peaches. . . . . .c-cof. . .fin!. . . . ." was all the younger Summers could make out between the gales of laughter. She guessed she'd have to force it out of him later.

After a few minutes, Spike was finally able to get enough air into his undead lungs to string more than two words together. He wiped the tears that had sprung from the hilarity and hugged Xander to him briefly.

"Good one, fledge." He smiled. He'd known all along that the boy was evil. How else could he survive on the Hellmouth with only chits for company? One look at Angel's face sent him off again. He snorted. "Coffin!"

The vampire doubled over, tears streaming down his face anew, Xander giggling beside him. The others probably thought he'd gone off his rocker, but he didn't care. Even as a six year old, Xander faced danger with a joke. As much as the habit had annoyed Spike in the past, it was good to know that some things never changed. No matter what, Xander would always make fun of Angel.

* * * * *

__

TBC. . . .

Hope you liked this chapter. Next chapter: Giles! Research! And snuggles, I promise. Thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 7: Of Giles, Temptation, and Te...

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: R, but only because I might get graphic later. Most of it's PG-ish.

Disclaimer: I think I've forgotten this for a while. These characters are not mine. You've read my story so far, do you think I'm actually creative enough to come up with these character by myself? Many thanks to those that are behind Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. My brain loves playing with these characters!

A/N: I'm now working on four different plot bunnies at the moment, not including my work with Kelley, and my much put off X-Men story (sorry to anyone who's reading that. It's not getting done for a while.) Anyway, I know I promised much wackiness. If you're not weirded out yet, give me time. The really good stuff I have planned won't show up for a couple more chapters at least. Also thanks to Sarya Louise (sp?) for your faithful reviewing. You make my day! On with the story!

* * * * *

"Aaahh! I'm melting, melting! Oh, what a world! What a world. . . ."

"Get over yourself, already!" Cordelia yelled at the Wicked Witch of theWest. "You're such a drama queen."

Dawn snorted. "You're one to talk," she mumbled.

Tara and Xander cheered as the witch dissolved into goo while Spike wiped a mock tear from the corner of his eye. Dawn giggled and handed him a tissue.

"So, they all get what they want now?" Xander asked Tara. The two of them had dethroned Dawn from her mound of pillows, exiling her to the couch with Spike. She huffed and puffed about it, but didn't really seem to mind. Cordelia had taken up residence in the armchair, a diet soda in one hand and a bowl of Rocky Road on the coffee table in front of her.

Tara smiled at the boy. "You'll see."

"They live happily ever after," Cordelia supplied.

"Pity that," Spike complained. "I like the lion all cowardly."

Dawn nodded. "Yeah," she agreed enthusiastically. "I love it they first see the wizard and he gets all 'fraidy and jumps out of that big window."

The conversation lapsed and the last few minutes of the movie were watched in silence. Dorothy clicked her heels, then woke up and found out that she hadn't been to Oz; she'd just been severely concussed. The turn of events confused Xander a little, but Tara reassured him that later that night, the scarecrow, tin man, and cowardly lion showed up at Dorothy and Toto's house, collected the two and Auntie Em, and went back to Oz where they started a traveling circus together. When Xander pressured her for more information, Tara went on to tell him that Auntie Em and the cowardly lion later on left to become the King and Queen of the Forest, Dorothy and the scarecrow fell in love, got married, and had a whole family of little scarecrows, and that the tin man met a really nice mechanic who made sure he never ran out of oil again.

The tranquility, as always, never lasted for long, however. Within minutes of the movie's end and Tara's epilogue, the telephone rang.

"Summers' House of Freaks; sorry, no vacancies," Dawn answered chirpily.

"Ah, Dawn. I presume all goes well on the home front?"

"Yeah, Mr. Giles. We're all good here. Got some movies, some popcorn and just stayed in tonight. You want to talk to Tara?"

"Yes, actually. Is she busy at the moment?"

"No, I'll go get her. She's just keeping Spike away from Angel."

"All right then. . . .what?" Giles tried to get the young girl's attention once again, but she'd already put down the phone to go search for her wiccan babysitter.

"M-mr. Giles?" Tara asked timidly as she picked up the phone.

"When were you planning on informing me of Angel's arrival?"

Tara's mouth opened, but no sound would come forth. She'd barely had time to deal with the past twenty-four hours herself, much less keep the Watcher informed "I. . . .I. . .well, you see. . . ."

She jumped when nimble fingers deftly plucked the receiver from her hand. "Let's trade, ducks." Spike tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder and handed Tara an armful of six year old. "If Peaches even thinks about going near you two or the Nibblet, turn him into a toad. I'll take care of the unemployed librarian."

Tara stood shocked at the vampire's thoughtfulness for a moment, before giving herself a mental shake and just going with it. She gave Spike a grateful look and retreated back to the living room, her charge in tow.

"Hello, Tara? Are you still there?" chirped the tiny voice of Rupert Giles through the earpiece of the phone.

"Oi, Rupes! What's the bleedin' idea startling the witch like that? Don't you think she's had enough to deal with, what with Xander being a tot and the Princess and the Pouf's grand entrance? She didn't exactly sign up for this gig when she agreed to watch the Slayer's little sis, you know."

Spike would have been proud of the expression of total shock his statement brought to Giles' face if he'd been able to see it through the phone. Unfortunately, he had to make due with what he extrapolated from the sound of his sputtering. He could have sworn he heard the stuffy Brit take off and clean his glasses at least twice.

On the other end of the line, Giles mentally counted to ten. In Fyarl. He knew Spike was just waiting for the opportunity to push his buttons and mock him for his failure to instantly grasp the situation from the tiny bit of information provided. It reminded him of Xander, in a way. He blinked. That thought definitely gave him pause.

"You still on the line, Watcher, or is it past bedtime at the old folks home?"

Giles mentally berated himself for his wool gathering. "Focus, you senile git," he chastised himself. He cleared his throat audibly. "Why exactly are Angel and Cordelia in Sunnydale?" he finally asked.

Spike shrugged, although Giles couldn't see it. "Dunno. Something about the cheerleader having a vision. The bog trotter was too busy playing Don Quixote to fill us in on the details."

Giles sighed, his hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'll be there shortly to sort this all out. Please try to remain civil until I get there."

"What? I'm always civil," Spike argued. Giles didn't even dignify that with a response.

Spike chuckled at the Watcher's abrupt farewell. Yeah, sure, he'd left Ripper safely buried in his past. Right. He couldn't wait until some poor tosser finally proved too much for Rupe's temper. He just hoped he wasn't caught in the crossfire.

His laughter tapered off as he reentered the Summers living room. He shot a glare at Angel who was standing in the far corner before regarding the rest of the room. Cordelia had apparently given up on persuading Angel to play well with others and left him to brood in favor of watching TV with Dawn. Guess the ex-cheerleader's smarter than I gave her credit for, Spike thought with a smirk. The two had turned the TV to a Friends rerun, further proving to Spike that the godforsaken show was always on somewhere. Tara sat on the far end of the couch, her legs tucked underneath her. Xander had curled up on the couch beside her, the wiccan's legs providing a convenient pillow. One small hand held onto the loose fabric of her skirt, the other rested in front of his chin. Tara's hand absently played with his hair as he lay there.

She noticed Spike's gaze on the two of them and quirked an eyebrow in silent question. Knowing she wanted an explanation, and guessing she was patient enough to keep asking for one until she got it, he walked over to her side.

"It's weird," he started awkwardly.

"What is?" she asked quietly.

"One night, hell, I think the only night the whelp let the demon chit stay in the basement while I was staying there, this is what they did. She sat down and curled up on the couch with an afghan on Harris's pitiful excuse for a couch. He put in a movie, then laid down and put his head on her lap. The whole movie they snuggled there, him talking to her quietly while she ran her fingers through his hair. They looked so cute it made me nauseous." He sniffed. "Plus, it was harder to hear the movie, what with them chattering."

Tara smiled, both at the image and Spike's supposedly offended sensibilities. Truth was, from some of the stories she'd heard she could picture him doing something similar with Drusilla. "Well, it must be really calming for him," she replied. "Five minutes ago, he wouldn't take his eyes off of Angel, now he's almost asleep."

Spike looked down, watching the boy fight to keep his eyes open, and a tiny smile came to his face. Xander really was an adorable child, in Spike's opinion. The boy oozed vulnerability; any demon in a three mile radius could feel it, Spike was certain. Even his sire had to feel the pull. The magnificent pouf hadn't stopped fidgetting since he'd entered the Summers' house. His eyes constantly tracked back to the boy in Tara's lap as he paced the three foot span allotted to him in the corner. Xander, for his part, had felt the older vampire's eyes on him too. His earlier independence had been quickly forgotten as he alternately clung to him or Tara ever since his altercation with Angel when he'd first entered.

But, Spike thought in amusement, the boy never gave Angel the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. The boy had balls; Spike had to give him that, even in his older incarnation. There was strength in the boy, buried deep. He smirked. Hell, that's what made goading the whelp so much fun.

Droopy would walk in at night, dragging his feet in exhaustion from whatever fast food job he'd been working every spare hour to afford his parent's rent. He'd sit through the Scooby meeting, thoroughly ignored, and having to listen to the others complain about their problems. If he was the boy, he'd have throttled the little twits long ago. They talked about their troubles as if the boy's life was easier than theirs. Exactly who had to worry about how much time he could take off to help slay before he ran short on money for the week? Which of them was actually having to live in the working class adult world while his friends still mooched off Mommy and Daddy? From what little he heard while staying in the whelp's basement, he figured the boy had been looking out for himself a lot longer than any of his friends knew.

Xander would listen to all of his friends' mindless chatter, growing more morose and pitiful by the second, while Spike wondered how the hell these oblivious twits had ever stopped even his most harebrained schemes until he saw his opening. Then he'd pounce. Witty banter would fill the air. The whelp's ability to think on his feet continually amazed the vampire. And the boy thinks he's not smart enough for college. Piffle.

But witty banter was not Spike's ultimate goal. So, he did what he did best, he pushed the envelope. He made his thinly veiled threats toward Giles more concrete, or backhandedly insulted Red, or leered at the Slayer. These tactics always produced what he wanted. Dark eyes would glare at him and Spike got to see past that alluring vulnerability to what laid beyond. 

The Slayer, witch, and Watcher saw Xander as a gentle, loving, and brave, if foolhardy boy, and for the most part they were right. He was gentle and loving, but they were too busy rolling their eyes at his humor, or trying to push him away from the danger of the fight to notice what had happened to their friend in the last four years. But Spike saw it every time he pushed a little too far. Guileless eyes had become tinted with experience, and his humor hid a calculating intellect that he knew remained mostly unrecognized by the others. The eyes never lie. Xander Harris was a dangerous man. And the white hats didn't have a clue. Spike kind of liked it that way.

But right now, the boy was practically defenseless and he did not like the way his sire was looking at him and Tara. Spike crouched down at Tara's feet and waited for the Watcher.

* * * * *

Given the circumstances and the unlocked door, Giles decided to forgo knocking. Angel's pacing first caught his attention. The souled vampire seemed even more uptight than usual. His eyes then fell to the apparent object of Angel's irritation. Spike glared at his sire from where he sat, crouched at the foot of the couch. The Watcher noticed with mild shock that he had positioned himself in front of Tara and Xander and with Dawn in easy reach. Giles could see the silent challenge in the peroxide blonde vampire's eyes and from the way Tara's eyes kept darting from Spike to Angel nervously, she was aware of the charged atmosphere as well.

Dawn, seemingly oblivious to the situation, looked away from the television and noticed the Watcher standing just outside the room. "Hey, Mr. Giles. Where's your musty old books?" she asked with a grin.

Tara nearly jumped out of her skin when Dawn spoke. She hadn't heard the man come in. Her attention had been completely focused on the Mexican standoff playing out in front of her. That Angel guy made her uneasy enough with the contradictory vibes he gave off. It was like two beings were constantly fighting for complete control inside of him, but neither could get a clear advantage. It made sense if he was a demon cursed with a soul, she guessed. Still, something about him set her on edge and Spike's defensive actions weren't helping any. Neither was the low growl continually coming from Spike as he followed Angel with his eyes. Something needed to happen to defuse the situation, or she had the feeling she was going to have to explain to Joyce why her house was no longer standing when she returned from her trip.

Tara didn't even know why the idea entered her mind. Okay, she did know. It was a combination of earlier thoughts and a sadistic curiosity that she knew would get her in trouble one day, but even entertaining the idea proved to her exactly how crazy she was. Oh, well, she thought, a bit on the hysterical side, I never told anyone I was sane.

* * * * *

Angel and Giles watched in morbid fascination and shocked horror respectively as Tara McClay reached out a hand and began to run her fingers through Spike's bleached hair. Expecting Spike to jump in surprise or possibly break the woman's arm, both were even more surprised when he instantly relaxed and leaned into her soft petting.

Tara looked up as if what she was doing was the most natural thing in the world. "He left all the books here last night, remember, Dawnie?"

Dawn looked at Tara in shock for a moment, then mentally shrugged. Her brain had reached its weirdness threshold for the day half an hour ago. "Oh, yeah, now I remember. They're on the kitchen table. You want me to go get them?"

Giles managed to blink away the shock without cleaning his glasses. "Err. . . .no. I believe we have more urgent matters to discuss at the moment, such as the reason for Cordelia and Angel's sudden appearance.

The older man gave the two a penetrating looked. Angel looked away nervously, whereas Cordelia simply sighed in frustration. "Don't look at me," she scoffed. "The PTB for some insane reason decided to send me a vision of Bleach-Boy over there saving a little kid from some scary, ugly demons. I thought, hey, problem solved, but Tall, Dark, and Overly Obsessed over there decided we needed to come to Sunnydale and skulk."

All eyes turned to the souled vampire in question. "What? She had a vision where William the Bloody saved a child. You can't tell me the thought doesn't weird you out beyond belief."

Giles reluctantly nodded in agreement. He had to admit that the mental image it presented did, as his protégés said, "give him a major wiggins." But he wasn't about to tell that to Angel. "You couldn't have simply phoned?"

The champion of LA had the grace to look sheepish. "I may have been a little rash. . ."

"A little," Spike finally spoke from where he now sat at Tara's feet. "You barged in here, hit the good witch, and tried to kill me and hurt the whelp!"

"You struck Tara?" Giles asked, a glint of Ripper showing through the librarian veneer. Tara was strangely touched that she evoked this reaction in the older man. It made her feel like she was thought of as something other than Willow's girlfriend.

Angel looked to the young woman on the couch behind his childe and saw the darkening bruise on her jaw line. "I-I'm sorry about that. I wasn't really thinking."

Tara smiled at him shyly. Truthfully, she'd almost forgotten about the elbow she'd received earlier. There were more pressing matters at hand, and she'd gotten worse. "It's okay. Just d-don't let it happen again."

On the other side of the room, Cordelia was getting tired of all this beating around the bush. "So, how did Xander get turned into a kindergartener anyway?"

Beside her, Dawn shrugged. "Not a clue."

Angel looked like he was about two seconds away from pulling his hair out in frustration. Couldn't anyone give a straight answer for once? Xander had been turned into a six year old, but still made fun of him, no one seemed in any way inclined to cooperate with him in finding the cause of their message from the PTB, and he couldn't torture his childe because Spike was helping! What had he done to deserve this?

"Oh, do stop already!" Giles exclaimed. "Your constant pacing is making me dizzy."

Angel sighed. "Sorry. It's just -"

"The brooding one can't help himself," Spike interrupted.

"What?" Giles asked in confusion.

Spike ignored him and focused wholeheartedly on his sire. "Don't deny it, Peaches. Your demon's been screaming since you got here, clawing toward the surface, trying its hardest to push past that pesky soul and take what it wants."

Cordelia glanced between the two vampires warily. "What it wants?"

"All that vulnerability, fear, and innocence oozing from his tiny, defenseless body, just waiting to be taken away; ripped into little broken pieces."

"Spike," Angel warned, his body tense.

"You want it bad, don't you, Angelus? Want to make him shriek and cry. Watch tears fall from those big, brown doe eyes of his."

"Stop it," Angel hissed, his eyes darkening.

"Not until you admit it," Spike retorted.

Angel's eyes narrowed. Who did his Childe think he was, talking to him like that?

"Wait," Cordelia interrupted once again. Standing, she put herself between the two feuding vampires. "Is Bleachboy saying that your demon's getting all happy over Xander?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Spike told her.

Cordelia's eyes met Angel's once more. "Is that true?"

Angel shuffled from side to side under her scrutinizing gaze. This was different than Spike's accusations. Somewhere along the line, Angel had started to care about what Cordelia thought about him.

"He's right," Angel admitted with a sigh. He pointedly ignored Spike's self-righteous smirk. "Something about the kid. . . .it just gets to me."

"He always has," Cordelia replied with just a hint of a smile. "Now get your undead self under control, or I'm going to have to help Spike kick your ass."

"E-excuse me," Giles spoke up. This situation had gotten beyond his control ages ago. "Something about Xander in this altered state attracts the demon aspect of your persona? Perhaps it's some part of whatever caused him to de-age, an aspect of the spell or curse that has been placed upon him."

"He doesn't feel any different to me."

Everyone's eyes turned to Tara, who willed herself to stand firm under their gazes, to not look down. She had every right to speak in front of these people, and they respected her opinions. Nervous fingers started carding through Xander's hair again, but her face was more confident and in control than Giles had ever witnessed to date.

"He's always had a certain force. . . .exuding from his aura. It's totally unconscious on his part, but I'm pretty sure it gets noticed. Willow's aura's the same to a much smaller degree. I thought it was a Hellmouth thing."

Angel grew thoughtful. The young witch had a point. There'd always been something . . . .different about Xander. When he'd first met the boy, something about him had set him on edge. Maybe Tara was on to something. He would like to discuss it with the witch later, that is if Spike let her out of his sight.

"I knew the whelp was a demon magnet!" Spike crowed. "Patrol's always so much livelier whenever he comes along and plays bait."

Giles scowled. "Buffy never uses Xander as. . .as bait."

The blonde vampire turned to Giles and rolled his eyes. "Sure she doesn't. The only time she notices he's alive is when the Hellmouth's quiet. Then she drags him on patrol to bring the vampires out.

"And how, exactly do you know this?" Angel asked suspiciously.

Spike just smiled at the vampire's look of irritation. Man, he missed getting on someone's nerves this badly. The Scoobies had gotten used to him. "Because I do the same thing. So did you, if you'll remember."

"You used Xander as bait!" Dawn shrieked, an accusatory finger pointing to Angel.

"Yeah," Spike told her. "For me, actually."

"Hey! Spike used him as bait too," Angel argued.

Dawn's glare switched to Spike and he had to remind himself of his Master Vampire status to prevent himself from backing away from her. Did the Summers women take lessons in death glares, or were they just naturally talented?

"Don't look at me like that you little platelet. The boy knew what I was doing," Spike snapped irritably. "Hells, it became almost a game for him. He'd dress up in the brightest, most mismatched outfit he could dig up and wander around the graveyard." Spike started to smile as he got caught up in the retelling of the story. "First night we patrolled together, I thought the git had gone totally barmy. When he told me to get out of sight, I almost left him, but then I got curious. The boy may act dozy at times, but he's far from stupid, so I did what he said and started watching him."

"He didn't pay me no mind, just walked on, shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets. He had a stake in easy reach, mind you, but you couldn't tell by looking at him. No, in front of me, walking around aimlessly was a clueless college kid, a happy meal ready for the taking."

Angel growled at his obviously excited childe and the thought that he still thought of Buffy's friends, his allies, as food. But Spike, as usual, paid him no mind.

"And then, just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he starts to whistle." Spike stopped, chuckling. "Whistle, I tell you! Broken little melodies and half-sung phrases, all while shifting his gaze back and forth, all nervous like. I had half a mind to attack him at that point, and I knew he was fooling. I think we killed at least ten vampires and a couple of demons that night. It was bloody brilliant!"

"And he knew all about the bait thing?" Tara asked for clarification. Listening to Spike's little tale didn't reassure her much, given the fact that said bait was asleep in her lap at the moment and totally helpless.

Spike laughed. "Course he did. It was his idea. You think I could ever convince him to do it otherwise? He's a lot smarter than you lot give him credit for. Pissed him off right and proper when he figured out the Slayer was using him like that without his permission though."

Tara frowned. "He has been avoiding patrol with Buffy lately," she mused.

"Yes, this is all well and good," Giles interjected. "But can we please get back to the matter at hand." He set the books he'd retrieved from the kitchen during Spike's little diatribe on the coffee table. "Tara, you and I shall search for a spell which could bring about such a change in Xander."

She nodded and took one of the thick tomes from Giles' hand and settled it on her lap, careful not to jar the sleeping Xander.

"Spike," he continued, grabbing the vampire's attention. "Look for a description of the demons that attacked the two of you last night." He thrust a book into Spike's hands.

Spike opened the ancient text like he thought it might bite him. Upon seeing what was written inside, his eyes widened. "Oi! Do you know what language this is?"

"No," Giles answered. A smirk much like one Spike would wear came to the Watcher's face. "But you do. I saw you reading it last week."

Spike scowled, but went back to his research grumbling under his breath about old gits who should bloody well mind their own business.

"I can help with the demon ID," Cordelia volunteered. Giles looked up at the young woman in surprise. What? You think I was going to just sit here and twiddle my thumbs? Besides, I want to know what's so important that the Powers decided to give me a migraine."

Giles handed her a book, offering a small smile of thanks. Cordelia sent up a silent cheer when she discovered it was in English. She _really _hadn't wanted to wade through demon gibberish tonight.

"I'll patrol," Angel offered quickly. Maybe killing a few demons would get rid of some of the pent up energy being around Xander had given him.

Giles glanced at the souled vampired who looked ready to climb the walls shortly if nothing changed. Before tonight he'd thought Spike was the only vampire afflicted with hyperactivity. "You do that. And if you observe anything of note, please inform us." Angel practically fled from the house and out into the Sunnydale night.

"Was it something we said?" Tara asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. Everyone shared a chuckle before beginning to leaf through their prospectively.

"Hey," Dawn said. "What do you want me to do?"

Giles stared at the young girl with attempted nonchalance. From her scowl at his hesitation, he concluded Dawn was not fooled.

"Oh, come on. I can help. I've been helping since this whole mess started! You can't keep me shut away from the world forever."

Giles still looked skeptical. "I know you done a great deal to help with Xander's care in the last two days, but in regards to the supernatural, your sister -"

"My sister can shover her holier-than-thou attitude up her ass," Dawn hissed with a quiet intensity that shocked the older man. Dawn closed her eyes and willed herself to calm down. Having a temper tantrum was not going to convince the older man that she was mature enough to help. "Look, I'm not asking to go out demon hunting. I just want to join the research party." She sensed Giles resolve start to crumble and plowed forward. "I can do a good job, really. When it comes to books, I'm way smarter than Buffy"

The thirteen year old's eyes met the Watcher's. Her gaze held a level of maturity that he had never thought someone so young could possibly possess. "Please, I just want to help Xander. I owe it to him."

Giles sighed and picked up a thin tome from near the bottom of the stack. "This is the personal account of the last seer to have ties to the Watcher's Council. His powers were the result of a rather nasty curse. His . . . .prophecies were recorded by the Slayer that he had been assigned to, as she felt a certain responsibility for his misfortune."

"Why'd she feel guilty?" Dawn asked. "She accidently say 'I wish' a little too loud?"

"N-no," Giles answered seriously. "His curse was self-imposed. He sought a way to see the future in order to prevent his Slayer's death." 

"Oh," Dawn whispered.

"It worked, to an extent. She lived for several more years, even married and had a child before her death, but he was driven quite mad." Giles handed the now silent girl the book. "Perhaps you might find something in her writing that shed some light on the reason for Xander's odd condition."

Dawn gave Giles a smile. "It's worth a shot."

The watcher offered Dawn a world weary smile of his own. Truthfully, he didn't expect her to find anything of value. The prophecies the young Slayer had recorded were intriguing, but most of the Council scholars had dismissed them as just insane ramblings. No one that believed them accurate could make any sense of the strange phrases and illustrations. A girl barely in her teens should have no more success. However, stranger things had happened.

Books in hand, the research party began. Tara moved Xander to the pile of pillows in the middle of the floor, pulling a throw off the couch and covering the boy with it. Giles' suggestion that they take the slumbering six year old up to one of the bedrooms was met by a growl from Spike and a slightly stuttered reply from Tara that Xander might become frightened if he woke up alone in a strange place.

Spike's possessive flare up aside, the research went fairly smoothly after that. Very little sound came from the group except page turning and pen scratching when someone ran across something of note. In fact, only the occasional muttered phrase from Giles as he jotted down notes and Spike, who seemed to curse in whatever language he was reading were the only interruptions to the quiet that had fallen over the group.

Dawn was so engrossed in her deciphering of the strange ramblings of the Slayer's journal that she jumped slightly at the pull on her pants' leg Sleepy brown eyes blinked up at her. "Can I sit with you?" Xander asked softly.

Dawn just scooted over in the armchair and patted the spot beside her. That was all the invitation the boy needed. He scrambled into the seat, bringing the throw with him, which he generously offered to girl. Dawn spread it over their legs and lifted her arm so Xander could snuggle into her side.

She smiled as the boy leaned into her. She loved cuddling with her mom like this on lazy Saturdays, watching cartoons while her mother read a book. She expected Xander to fall right back asleep; it was late for a six year old. But instead he looked at the book held in her hands curiously. Dawn shrugged internally. She wasn't his mother. He could stay up if he wanted.

She continued with her reading, Xander gazing on from where he sat snuggled into her side. As she puzzled through the text, she kept a covert eye on her charge. It was because of this that she saw his expression turn into a frown after a few minutes.

"What?" she whispered.

"This book talks funny," Xander whispered back.

Dawn smiled. "You know how to read?"

"Yeah," Xander answered as if it were obvious. Of course he could read!

"Did you learn that in school?" she asked. Her school didn't teach kids to read until first grade. Was that where Xander's memories stopped?

Xander shook his head. "I always knew how to read. Willow didn't. I taught her how when she was five."

Dawn chuckled. She couldn't wait until Willow got back so she could hold that little tidbit of information over the witch's head. She pictured a five year old Willow sharing a book with Xander as he showed her how to sound out the words and giggled again.

Across the room, Spike looked over at Tara who was watching the two kids converse with a grin. He scooted closer to her on the couch.

"You knew he'd wake up, didn't you, Glinda?" he asked quietly.

Tara nodded. "Willow once told me that when they were kids, he never slept the whole night through. She said that some nights after he woke up, he'd sneak over to her house and stay in her room the rest of the night. She frowned. "I always wondered about that. Most kids are scared enough of the dark that they wouldn't even think about leaving the house in the middle of the night. Willow and Xander lived close to each other, but not that close." Tara thought about the dangers a six year old would face out on the street at night, especially in Sunnydale and shuddered.

Spike's face darkened. "Makes you wonder what made him want to leave his house that bad." He tensed as another thought occurred to him. "Last night in the cemetery, he knew I was a vampire."

"What?" Tara responded in shock. "How?"

"I don't have the foggiest. My demon wasn't showing, at least not when I spoke to him. But he just knew somehow. It was bloody creepy. The kid's perceptive as hell."

Tara smiled. "So is the adult Xander. I've never figured out why the others seem so reluctant to use that."

Spike snorted. "They don't see it."

Tara sighed. "You're right. Sometimes Buffy and Willow are not the most observant people." She turned so that she was facing Spike fully. "After the four of them got into that big fight a few months ago because of. . . ." She looked at Spike in slight embarrassment. "Well, because you tried to set them against each other. Anya told me something. Xander knew about Willow and me. He had known for weeks."

Spike looked surprised. He'd figured the boy was as clueless as the watcher on that one. The two witches had kept their blossoming relationship under wraps very well. As far as he'd known, Red had only shared with the Slayer. "When did he come to this discovery?"

"When Oz came back to town and. . . .attacked me. At least, that's what Anya told me. I never asked him about it, though."

Spike nodded. "That should have been a dead giveaway. You'll have to talk to him after we get this mess fixed up."

Tara bit her lip nervously at the suggestion. "I don't know. . . ."

"As hard as he is on vampires, I'm sure he doesn't have any problems with you and Red, ducks. If he did, he would have said something."

"Xander doesn't seem to have any problem with you," Tara noted.

"He's a little kid, he doesn't know what I'm capable of," Spike argued. The excuse sounded weak, even to his own ears.

"I didn't mean now," Tara clarified. "I meant before."

"What are you talking about?" Spike asked in disbelief. "We can't be in a room together for more than five minutes without death threats being exchanged. The whelp hates me. If it would have been up to him, I would have been staked ages ago."

"I don't think he hates you nearly as much as you think he does," Tara countered with surprising assertiveness. "He agreed to keep you in his basement, he willingly patrols with you. The two of you play pool at the Bronze."

Spike shrugged. "Both of us share a love of taking rich college kids for every cent that they have. Still doesn't prove anything. He's just following the Slayer's orders, or I woudn't be different than any other vampire."

He'd expected Tara to back down after that statement. He was wrong. "I know you don't believe that. Xander knows you're dangerous. I think he's the only one of us who's never forgotten what you are capable of. But if he thought you were too dangerous for his friends to handle, you would have died a long time ago. And you know that."

Spike's eyes widened. Obviously someone else saw the boy the way he did. He wondered why it didn't surprise him more that it was the white witch who noticed the world the same way.

With one last look over at Dawn and Xander, the two turned back to their books. The group continued in relative silence, completely unaware of the time that passed. That is, until Cordelia's cell phone rang. Tara started, her eyes, her eyes shooting up from the blurring page she had been studying.

Cordelia glared at the phone accusingly before answering it. "Hello, Angel. I see you finally realized I'd put your cell phone in your coat pocket," she began sweetly. Too sweetly.

"I mean it's not like you've been patrolling Hellmouth Central for HOURS, without checking in, even though I've sent about twenty messages."

Spike was impressed with the amount of menace she put into the statement without raising her voice.

Cordelia sighed. "Oh, well. At least you didn't break it like the last FOUR."

And she dug up old history too!

Her little lecture over, Cordelia gave Angel the opportunity to speak. Then she took it away just as quickly.

"What do you mean you're at the mansion? Did you feel the sudden need for nostalgia? You have the sudden urge to rescue your leather pants from the moths?" She scowled. "If you think for one second I'm setting foot in there, you've got another thing coming, buddy!"

Another pause as Cordelia listened to what Spike guessed was Angel stammering to explain himself to his human keeper. He smirked. It was good to see someone treating the his grandsire, a champion for the Powers That Be and someone she was gifted with visions to serve, with absolutely no respect whatsoever. The Scourge of Europe brought down by a human girl barely out of her teens. He just knew that some divine entity was laughing its ass off at the irony.

Tara rubbed her eyes, vainly trying to get rid of the gritty feeling she knew meant she needed to sleep. Finally giving up, she set her book on the coffee table. It was definitely time for everyone to be in bed. At that thought she reflexively looked over at the armchair. What she saw made her give Spike a nudge and grab one of the disposable cameras. Spike looked where Tara pointed. The two were fast asleep, Xander leaning against Dawn's side with the younger Summers' head resting on top of the boy's mop of dark hair. The book of prophecies lay forgotten, still open and resting on her lap.

"Oh, my God. I think that's the cutest thing I've ever seen," Cordelia said when she finished berating Angel on her cell phone. Tara smiled at her in agreement before snapping a couple of quick pictures.

Cordelia smirked. "Who would have thought that Dorkboy could look so adorable."

Spike barely stopped himself from snarling at the seer. Of course Xander was adorable; they both were. And they were _his_. Spike blinked. Wait a tick, where had that come from? Vampires didn't go around claiming human children, much less a white hat and a sibling of the Slayer. He looked at the two again as Tara reached over quietly and took the book off of Dawn's lap and felt a warmth in his chest that had been absent ever Angelus' sire had decided to get him an extra special dinner one night in Romania. Yeah, his developing feelings for the two children would make him as crazy as Drusilla in most demon's eyes, but at the moment, he didn't care.

"Cordelia," Tara whispered as she began to disentangle Xander from around Dawn. "You can sleep in Buffy's room, if you want."

Cordelia looked up at Tara in surprise for a moment before a genuine smile came to her face. For the first time since she'd met the ex-cheerleader earlier this evening, Tara saw why Xander would have dated someone who seemed so outwardly cold. True, she was beautiful even when furious, but the smile softened her features, she looked, gentle.

"Thanks, Tara," the former Sunnydalian told her gratefully.

Tara returned the smile with a nod before lifting Xander out of the chair. She'd carry him upstairs before returning to wake Dawn. Or, at least that was the plan until Spike came over and scooped Dawn up like she didn't weigh anything. Which, she rationalized to herself, was true if you had vampire strength.

Cordelia looked at the two of them oddly for a moment, head cocked to one side slightly. "Well, I guess I'll turn in. Don't worry, I can find my own way." With that she hurried up the steps.

Spike watched his grandsire's companion climb the steps, looked at Tara in mild bewilderment, and shrugged before motioning with a nod for her to go ahead of him. The two trudged up the stairs with their respective burdens, Tara glad that Xander was small for his age. She shifted him slightly in her arms. Skinny too, she noted. She'd have to make sure he ate better.

They arrived in Dawn's room and, after a moment's thought deposited the two on the two twin beds. Tara figured Dawn would appreciate having the to herself. Besides, she and Spike were close if either of them needed anything. She wasn't surprised when Spike was just as gentle in tucking in Dawn as she was with Xander, although the thought of Buffy's reaction to the caring way he pulled the covers up to Dawn's chin and tucked her long hair behind her ear made her grin. Without a word, the two said goodnight to both their charges and tiptoed out of Dawn's room, closing the door behind them.

"Well, I guess it's off to the couch, ducks," Spike said with a small grin. "G'night."

"We could share the bed." 

As soon as the suggestion left her mouth, she blushed bright red. Did she really just say that? After a moment, she chanced a look at the vampire. The look of total surprise on his face reminded her that in all likelihood, Spike grew up in 19th century England. The fact that her embarrassment was shared made it easier to put aside.

"I don't mind, really," she continued.

"I wouldn't want to impose." Oh, yeah. There was definitely some Victorian Brit poking through the punk rock exterior.

"I insist," she told him firmly. "Angel might come back. I don't want to have to explain broken furniture to Ms. Summers."

One look at Tara's determined face told Spike that she wasn't taking no for an answer. He didn't understand his sudden trepidation at her request. He was a demon; he didn't care about human sensibilities. Besides, the witch had a girlfriend that she was quite devoted to. She was just being nice by offering him a comfortable place to sleep. That was it, he decided. He just wasn't used to people being nice to hm.

Spike rolled his eyes. "All right. But if Red finds out and decides to get jealous, you have to protect me." The mock stern look on his face shifted into a leer. "Course, if she likes the idea. . . ."

"Great. Even demon men are pigs!" Tara said exasperatedly, pushing him into Joyce's bedroom. "No hogging the covers."

* * * * *

A witch, a seer, a vampire and a child who was more than she seemed slept peacefully under the roof of the Summers' residence. The other child woke with a start and looked around frantically, not sure where he was at first. Then he remembered. He was in the house with Spike and Dawn and Tara the good witch. He was safe; nothing could get him here. He shuddered. He'd dreamed that he was still in that little stone building, that the monsters were still banging on the door and swiping their claws across his skin. It was dark and scary, and he was all alone.

Xander wrapped his arms around himself at the memory and whimpered softly. What if the monsters got inside? What if they were in the room right now? His eyes shot over to the other bed. Seeing Dawn made him feel a little better, but the fear lingered heavy in the pit of his stomach. Dawn was pretty and brave, but right now he needed to find Spike. Spike made everything better.

Said vampire woke at Xander's first whimper. After a few tense seconds, he relaxed. Nothing was endangering the whelp. He must have woken up again. He struggled to remember if the boy had been this restless when he'd been tied to the chair in Xander's basement. Anya hadn't slept down there while he stayed at Chez Harris. The only time other than when he was leaving for his new crypt was the time he'd witnessed the display he'd mentioned to the witch earlier. He frowned when he realized he didn't know. He usually took every opportunity to learn about any potential enemies, especially after getting concussed by a certain Slayer's mother, but for some reason this simple aspect of Xander's personality eluded him.

Spike would have wondered more about that peculiarity, but he heard Xander hesitate in front of the bedroom door. The vampire laid there silently and listened as Xander shifted from foot to foot nervously, waiting for him to open the door. The movement on the other side of the door stilled and Spike restrained himself from striding to the door, flinging it open, and gathering is boy into his arms. He wanted Xander to make the decision to come inside on his own. Then he heard a muffled sniffle.

Before he could even react, Tara had risen fro the bed and moved to the door. Spike blinked. He hadn't even known she was awake.

Tara opened the door slowly. Xander stood on the other side, dressed in the T-shirt Spike had donated for pajamas, looking at his feet.

"Xander, what is it, sweetie?"

"I. . .I. . . ." Xander didn't look up at Tara as he spoke, instead concentrating on his bare toes as they made tiny furrows in the carpeting. "I'm scared," he whispered. He finally looked up. "Sorry."

Tara kneeled down and hugged the small body to her. "There's nothing to be sorry about." She let im go and offered him a small smile. "Do you want to stay in here with us?"

Xander hesitated. "It's okay?" he asked tentatively.

"Sure it is, fledge," Spike answered from where he was now sitting in the bed.

Xander looked up at Spike and visibly relaxed. Tara grabbed his hand and led him over to the bed before motioning him into it. Spike held up the covers as the boy crawled in and snuggled up beside him. Tara climbed in after, Xander now situated between the two of them. The young boy looked over at the wiccan shyly. 

"Thanks," he whispered.

"For what?" she asked, confused.

"For letting me come in," he told her seriously.

Tara's hand came up to cup Xander's cheek. "Oh, sweetie. You don't ever have to worry about that. We'll always let you in."

When Xander met her gaze, she was struck at the depth she saw there. "Really?" he whispered. Tara could hear the unbridled hope in his voice.

"Course, whelp. Wouldn't make the offer otherwise," Spike answered for the woman. "Tara would never lie to you; she's not that kind of girl. As for me, well I'm an evil demon, but I don't abandon my o-. . . .my friends."

Spike draped an arm over Xander's side while Tara moved her hand under the boy's pillow. She winked at the tiny boy who grinned back before closing his eyes. He was asleep in under a minute. Tara and Spike decided he had the right idea and joined him soon after.

* * * * *

__

TBC. . . . Next chapter: Dawn snaps some photos, the gang does research, and Xander gets his birthday present!


	9. Chapter 8: The Morning After

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: R. What can I say? I like to make people curse randomly.

Disclaimer: The characters on BtVS and AtS do not belong to me. I'm only using them to exercise my writing muscles. It only payment is the enjoyment of the readers.

A/N: Thank you all SO much for all the great feedback. I really didn't think anyone would care about this story but me. Sorry for the LONG delay. A combination of work and writer's block is to blame. I want to give a special thanks to all of you who begged for me to continue, especially my old roommate Annie (the Book Slayer) for taking that extra step and threatening me if I didn't update soon. I love you, Annie. Happy Valentine's Day.

On with the story!

* * * * *

Dawn rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. 8:24 is displayed to her in garish red digital mockery. She groaned. Why was she awake this early during the summer? With one last silent curse to the heavens, she sat up, then froze. Why was she tucked into her bed? The last thing she remembered clearly was snuggling up with Xander in the living room. She choked back a giggle as that thought went through her head. A couple of days ago being able to snuggle up with Xander would have made her heart flutter in excitement. Man, things changed quickly on the Hellmouth.

She looked over at the other twin bed, one that had belonged to Buffy before their move to Sunnydale, and saw the covers disturbed, but no occupant. Where was everyone?

Deciding that despite the early hour she was definitely awake, damn her internal clock, she climbed out of bed and padded barefoot over to her mom's room looking for Tara. When she opened the door, she had to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. Then she ran to get the camera she knew Tara had hidden in the kitchen. With a stealth only achieved by those used to sneaking up on a Slayer, Dawn crept back into the room and into perfect picture taking position.

"Snap that photo, Bit, and die a horrible death," Spike spoke, eyes still closed.

Dawn sighed. "Fine, Spike, ruin all my fun." If Spike's eyes had been open, he would have seen the sly grin adorning Dawn's face as she spoke to him. She'd gotten two photos before he said anything. Take that vampire hearing!

Spike finally opened his eyes and Dawn hid her triumphant expression quickly. "What are you doing up so early anyway?"

Dawn shrugged. "I've always been a morning person. I don't know why. Nothing short of an apocalypse or a clearance sale will get Buffy out of bed before noon during the summer. What's with the dog pile in here?"

Was it just her imagination, or did the bleach blonde vampire look embarrassed? Nah, couldn't be. "The witch was afraid my arse of a sire would come back and redecorate the living room by way of throwing me through walls if he saw me. So she told me to sleep in here. Fledge just wandered in later. Got spooked by the different surroundings, I suppose."

Dawn took a moment to smile at the small head of dark hair she could just make out under the covers snuggled up to Tara. "I could see where he'd freak a little. I know I would be if I was his age. . . .well, the age he thinks he is at the moment." She turned back to Spike. "Hey, you want some breakfast?"

Spike glance over at the two others in his bed before nodding. "Might as well. We'll let Tara and the whelp get their beauty sleep."

Dawn giggled softly. "Yeah, as long as Xan's asleep he's not bouncing off the walls."

Spike groaned in memory as thoughts of yesterday flitted through his minds. "He's not getting sugar today," he proclaimed solemnly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"More Cocoa Puffs for me!" Dawn exclaimed with a grin.

* * * * *

Cordelia had grown up on the Hellmouth. She fought the forces of evil, albeit reluctantly at times, for most of her high school career. She'd seen and experienced some of the weirdest and most frightening things the demonic world had to offer both in Sunnydale and later as an employee of Angel Investigations. But nothing had prepared her for what she was witnessing as stepped into Summers' living room.

"Morning, Cordy," Dawn said. She took in the ex-cheerleader's shocked expression. "What?" she asked innocently.

Spike turned to look at the older girl as well. "The pouf doesn't eat Cocoa Puffs, Bit." He lifted another spoonful to his lips. Yep, Cordelia confirmed with a full body shudder, that was blood in the vampire's cereal. She was suddenly thankful that she shared an apartment with a nice, relatively ordinary vampire. And wasn't that a revelation. Angel, cursed by gypsies, loved by a Slayer, and chosen as a Champion by the Powers That Be, was the normal one in his family. Scary.

"Ew," Cordelia managed through her disgust. Dawn and Spike just rolled their eyes at her antics. 

"Spike, Dawnie!" a voice called from upstairs. "Where are you?"

"We're downstairs, whelp," Spike called back from where he sat watching cartoons. "Come on downstairs and the cheerleader'll get you some brekkie!"

Irritation quickly overtook any lingering disgust Cordelia felt toward Spike culinary tastes. "Oh sure, Blondie. Don't let anything distract you from Batman Beyond. It's not like I'm a guest here. I so wish Angel had a reason to kick your ass." She stomped into the kitchen, Dawn and Spike snickering the entire way.

Xander was already there when she entered the kitchen. He smiled at her shyly before looking at his feet. She had been having verbal battles with Xander for so many years that she'd forgotten about the small boy she'd met the first day of kindergarten. But here he was again, standing in front of her.

"Morning, kiddo," she said with a smile. "You want something to eat?" She held up the box of Cocoa Puffs in a questioning manner.

Xander nodded, his eyes not leaving Cordelia's face. His expression was puzzled as he followed her movements around the kitchen. She grabbed two bowls and two spoons and set them on the table before motioning Xander toward one of the chairs. The boy obediently sat and continued watching the former May Queen as she went to the refrigerator for milk and juice. Cordelia was aware of Xander's eyes on her, but didn't comment. She knew he'd talk when he was ready.

"I'm supposed to know you," Xander commented as Cordelia was pouring milk into their cereal, "I would, if I was my right age."

"You know you're supposed to be older?" Cordelia questioned. She hadn't realized he was aware of his situation.

"Spike and Tara said I had a spell on me," Xander answered. "I know you, don't I?"

"Yes you do. We went to the same school," Cordelia said with a bemused smile. The two of them started to eat, both observing the other. 

Cordelia took the time to look at the boy she remembered from a grown up perspective. Sitting across from her, he looked like a typical little kid, but underneath that was a sense of maturity at odds with his appearance. She was sure the others dismissed this duality as a side effect of whatever spell had been cast, but Cordelia knew better. The eyes openly regarding her were the same she remembered from the first time they'd met all those years ago. She'd known then that he was different than the other kids she'd played with in daycare before she started school. But she'd been too young to understand exactly why. It was part of the reason she'd antagonized him so much. Well that, and the fact that she enjoyed few things more than arguing with someone who could hold their own against her. It was a rare trait. Now that that look was leveled on her once again, she could see it though. Any other kid his age she'd ever met would be running back to the familiar as quickly as possible, especially after the encounter she'd witnessed in her vision. But Xander just studied her calmly as he ate his cereal in silence. He wasn't the least bit afraid of her. It was disconcerting. Even more so when she realized she wasn't all that surprised by that fact. She'd only seen Xander truly frightened a handful of times, and then it wasn't usually his own safety he was worried about. And even so, it took someone a lot scarier than Cordelia Chase to frighten Xander Harris, no matter what his age.

Xander for his part was desperately trying to figure out who this woman in front of him was. Her long dark hair tugged at his memories. He'd seen her somewhere before. She said they went to school together. Were they in the same class? He watched as her as she dug into her cereal with gusto. A strand of hair fell across her face and she blew the stray tress aside with practiced ease before eating another spoonful.

Xander's eyes widened. "CeeCee?" he squeaked.

Cordelia's head shot up at the hesitant question. She grinned, remembering the old nickname from kindergarten. Xander stared at her in shock for a moment, before a bright smile broke out on his face. "It is you!" he whispered. He jumped out of his seat at the table. "Spike!"

Cordelia had never seen a vampire move so fast, and that was saying something. "What is it, fledge?" he asked with obvious alarm. Seeing that expression on Spike's face made her giggle.

"Spike, it's CeeCee!" Xander exclaimed, literally bouncing with excitement. "She's in my class. I know her! I showed her how to tie shoes and when I got throwed off the jungle gym, she beat up Larry!" It was obvious from that statement that "CeeCee's" actions were legendary in the young boy's mind.

Spike turned his gaze toward Cordelia. "CeeCee?" he asked.

"Yeah," Cordy scoffed. "Cordelia Chase. CeeCee. Duh! It's my initials bleach-brain!"

"You beat up a boy!" Dawn exclaimed as she entered the kitchen, Tara at her heels. "That's awesome."

Cordelia smiled. "It wasn't the first time, and it won't the last. I couldn't let the creep get away with that. And it wasn't like Willow was going to do anything about it."

Xander's smile dimmed slightly. "You still don't like Willow, do you?"

"She's not bad," Cordelia answered truthfully. "I like her better now than I used to." Of course, that's not saying much, Cordelia thought with a smirk. "Speaking of which, where is Willow, anyway?"

"In LA with Anya," Tara answered from where she stood rummaging through the fridge. "I've left a couple of messages at the hotel, but neither one of them have called back yet."

Cordelia frowned. "That's weird."

Tara smiled. "Not really. Anya's busy learning about computer inventory, and finding new suppliers for the Magic Box, and Willow's probably barely looked up from all the computer components at the convention. I'm sure they're fine."

Tara didn't seem to be worried about her girlfriend, so Cordelia decided to put it out of her mind as well. Willow was a geek, but she had to come up for air sometime. Beside her, Xander's eyes lit up.

"Willow still lives here!" Xander exclaimed. "I thought for sure she'd move away when she grew up. She said she was going to live at Oxford." He turned to look at Spike. "Where's Oxford?"

"It's in England," Spike answered, knowing that his answer probably wouldn't help any. "Red, er, Willow still lives here. You'll most likely see her really soon."

"Cool!" He turned back to Cordelia. "Do you fight demons like Spike, CeeCee."

"She sure does," Spike answered for the woman, who glared at him.

"I bet all the monsters are afraid of you," Xander told her. Cordelia blushed at the unexpected praise. "You sure scare that Angel guy. He's was all "grrr" 'til you told him to stop being mean. He needs to listen to you more often."

Cordelia laughed. "That's what I keep telling him." 

* * * * *

Giles was distracted, not for the first time, from his research by the sound of laughter. His curiosity getting the best of him, he took in the room. On one end of the sofa, Spike, with a look of exaggerated patience, plucked a red Lego block off of the book sitting in his lap and tossed it back toward the culprit sitting in the middle of the living room. Tara dodged the halfhearted throw without looking up from the spell book she was studying. Beside her, Xander giggled before adding another block to his castle wall. Smiling shyly, he passed his partner in crime another block. Tara, seeing Giles' attention had drifted to them, paused mid-throw and offered the older man a smile. 

On the other side of the room, Dawn and Cordelia astutely studied their books, badly disguising their smirks at Xander and Tara's antics. Giles couldn't really complain. At the beginning of the day, he'd dreaded what could happen during a day of research with a six year old Xander Harris in the house. Given that even as an adult Xander seemed to almost vibrate with energy, Giles had prepared himself for a day of enduring hell on earth. 

What he'd seen had been surprising. True, Xander had moved from person to person, never staying in one place for more than ten minutes, but he'd been quiet and polite, at least by six year old standards. Most of the time he either watched TV with Spike or one of the girls, or more recently built with the Legos Tara had brought from home. Ironically, they were one of the presents she'd gotten for Xander's birthday. Everyone had taken turns spending time with Xander; the lighthearted boy provided a welcome distraction from the tedious research. Said boy played blocks with Tara for a few minutes longer before he got to his feet and headed in Giles' direction.

"Whatcha doing?" Xander asked the Watcher.

"I am researching a thirteenth century volume on altered state rituals," he answered the curious boy. "Hopefully between this and the transmogrification chronicle in Tara's possession we'll find the reason behind your. . ." Giles faltered slightly. "Well, that is, behind your. . . ."

"Why I'm six instead of nineteen?" Xander asked innocently.

Giles blinked. "Er, yes."

Xander took one look at the watcher's face and started giggling helplessly. "You're so funny, Mr. Giles," he said through his laughter. Giles quirked an eyebrow and Xander's giggles took off once again until he was holding his sides and grinning from ear to ear. Giles found himself watching the child as he shook with mirth. He didn't think he'd ever seen Xander so relaxed as he was at this moment. He'd always thought the boy cheerful and carefree to the point of being reckless at times. But seeing him like this made him realize how forced the carefree attitude was before. Hearing such innocent laughter revealed the nervous edge Xander's had harbored so often in the past, as if he was afraid someone would see something other than what he presented on the surface.

"Mr. Giles?"

Giles' attention must have wandered for longer than he thought, because when he looked up from his book at Xander's quiet question, he saw the boy looking at him uncertainly. His silence had undoubtedly worried the boy, and Giles berated himself silently. "Yes, Xander," he answered.

"C-can I look at the book, with you?" Xander asked quietly.

"It's a rather dense text, Xander. There aren't any pictures," Giles told him.

Xander shrugged. "That's okay. I wanna help."

He looked up at Giles earnestly, eyes imploring. The watcher made note of the page he was reading before closing it. "Come on, boy. Up with you." Xander smiled a smile that would put the sun to shame and climbed up into the older man's lap. He squirmed for a few moments before settling down comfortably in the crook of Giles's arm

Giles quirked an eyebrow at his chair's newest inhabitant. The boy only giggled in response. "Are you done?"

"Quite," Xander answered, a disturbingly Spike-ish smirk firmly in place. Giles simply rolled his eyes and reopened his book, pointedly ignoring the snickers coming from the others in the room. 

* * * * *

Hours later, Tara slammed her book shut and declared it was lunchtime. She and Cordelia exchanged a glance, then both rose and retreated to the kitchen. Giles continued to skim through the same book, Xander still at his side. The two kept up a quiet conversation, Xander occasionally looking up at the older man with a question and Giles patiently explaining whatever made piqued the boy's curiosity. Xander was obviously enthralled with what the Watcher was telling him. He hadn't moved in hours. Dawn and Spike had eventually moved to the floor and were now playing with Xander's abandoned Legos. As it was, the Harry Potter castle was nearly half complete.

"I didn't think it was physically possible for Xander to sit still for that long," Cordelia commented with a smile as she looked for paper plates.

"You should have seen him tear through Wal-Mart yesterday," Tara retorted. "Then you would really be shocked."

Cordelia swallowed a giggle. "I have seen him in Wal-Mart. Even at eighteen it was scary."

She deposited the paper plates and a small stack of napkins on the kitchen table. Tara gathered everything she could conceivably think of for sandwich fixings from the refrigerator before bumping the door closed with her hip. After arranging everything on the table, Tara frowned minutely. Something was missing. Then Cordelia came over to the table with a jar of peanut butter and all was in place, just in time for Xander to drag Giles and Dawn into the kitchen. Spike leaned in the doorframe and watched the goings on, careful to keep away from any stray sunlight from the uncovered windows. Xander let go of Giles and Dawn's hands after steering them to the table and turned back to the bleached blonde. He walked back to Spike, a questioning look on his young face. Spike didn't say a word, only smiled down at the youth before shifting his gaze toward one of the kitchen windows. Xander followed his friend's gaze and his look of confusion turned to one of understanding.

Xander frowned. "Oh, yeah. Vampire. That's so unfair," he spoke sadly.

Spike shrugged. "That's the ropes, fledge. Can't have everything. It's got its share of upsides, though, if you like being evil. Now go and get Glinda to fix you a sandwich."

Xander still looked troubled, but nodded and headed for Tara. The Wicca looked down from her food preparation when small arms wrapped around one of her skirt clad legs. Big brown eyes looked up at her with a tiny smile. Spike saw Tara's expression soften at the absolute trust in the boy's eyes. Spike knew from years of watching the Slayer and the Scoobies that Xander trusted very few people, and he didn't think that was a trait he'd acquired after being introduced to the world of vampires and demons. It went deeper, and the blonde witch had noticed this, he was sure of it. Tara took in everything and everyone around her at all times, much like himself. Xander wasn't the only one with trust issues, after all. 

She smiled back and ran a hand through the boy's unruly hair. "Hungry, sweetie?" Tara asked. Xander nodded. "You like turkey?" Again, a nod before Xander loosened his hold on her leg, but made no move to back away. 

Tara grinned again and gave his hair another ruffle before turning back to her task. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Glinda was the tyke's mum, Spike observed, his gaze turning thoughtful. Sure, the ages were a little too close, but the vibe was definitely there. Spike wondered how that would translate when Xander recovered his missing years. His mind pulled up the boy's newfound attachment to him, and he crushed that line of thought with a vengeance. Firmly pushing all thoughts of the future aside, Spike continued to watch Tara and Xander as she put together the child's lunch, occasionally asking him questions about what he wanted on his sandwich. 

"Are sure you like tomatoes?" Tara asked when he pointed to said item. Xander had never struck her as a fan of anything besides Hostess and microwave dinners.

Dawn looked up from her own creation in progress. "Oh, yeah. Sure he does. Some people stash their junk food, he hides his vegetables. If anyone found out he didn't live solely on pizza and Chinese takeout his reputation would be ruined."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Men." She sliced up a tomato, adding a slice to Xander's sandwich before sliding a couple onto her own. "Hey, Bleach Boy. You want anything?"

Spike blinked, surprised he'd been spoken to. "Uh, no thanks, ducks. Unless you got something of the hemoglobin variety."

"Hey, Tara. We got any blood?"

The blonde witch opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bag. Cordelia smiled. "Looks like you're in luck." Her look switched back to Tara. "Where are the mugs?"

"Second cabinet on your left," Dawn chirped. "The black one's Spike's."

Cordelia quirked an eyebrow. "Spike has his own mug in Joyce's kitchen? Something tells me I just don't want to know."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "It's for cocoa," he told the ex-cheerleader evenly. 

"Sure it is," she retorted. But she poured the blood into it anyway before putting in the microwave to heat.

Meanwhile Xander grabbed his plate and sat himself at the table beside Dawn. The teen looked over his meal. "Turkey and tomato, huh?"

Xander smiled. "Yeah, s'good. What did you make?"

"Peanut butter and salami," she answered with a smirk.

The two looked at each other for a moment. Wordlessly half of both sandwiches were exchanged.

"Hey, Tara?" Dawn asked. "We got any chocolate milk?"

* * * * *

__

TBC . . . 

Sorry for the abrupt ending, but I didn't want to start anything else and have to cut off in the middle.

Next up: Angel returns! And the gang gets a phone call. Who is it? You'll have to read to find out.


	10. Chapter 9: Hide and Seek

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: R. I haven't fully exercised this rating yet. Give me time.

Summary: Tara agreed to babysit Dawn for the week while both Joyce and Buffy were away. The job was going quite smoothly until a beaten and bloody Spike showed up on the doorstep with Xander clutched protectively to his chest. Of course add to this fact that Xander's a six year old and even poor Giles is stumped. When Angel and Cordelia show up, it really becomes a party. And Tara's adventures in babysitting are just beginning.

Author's Note: I bet you all thought I'd given up on this story. Nope, I just had work, then writer's block (Gasp! Horrors!), and then my computer ate everything that I had written. EVERYTHING! But enough notes! I know you all want to read the story. I wanted to make this longer before I posted, but a certain reviewer begging on their knees convinced me to sacrifice a little sleep and get this out there. Thanks for the kick in the butt, by the way.

On with the story!

"18 . . . 19 . . . 20! Ready or not, here I come, Fledge!"

Tara shook her head and chuckled as she stirred the huge pot of pasta boiling on the stove. Considering all the extra guests the newest situation had brought to the Summers' household, spaghetti seemed like the logical choice for dinner. It was quick, easy, and judging from the enthusiastic reactions of Dawn and Xander, Tara knew her two temporary charges would eat it. Either that or they both were anticipating how much fun it would be to fling it across the table at each other. Tara frowned as that thought went through her mind. Despite his seemingly constant state of motion around the household during their day of research, Xander was remarkably restrained when it came to rough housing. In fact he rarely acted out unless it was instigated by another party. And Dawn was way too old to . . . . Tara thought over the events of the day and the antics thus far the younger Summers had enjoyed with her new "little brother". With a sigh she made a mental note to change before dinner.

The Wicca was drawn from her thoughts by the ringing of the telephone. Who would be calling right now? Angel and Spike had both been nearly vibrating with pent up energy by the time the sun had set. They had left to do a patrol through a couple of Sunnydale's busier cemeteries. Well, actually Angel had said he would patrol and Spike had followed so he could keep his grandsire in sight at all times. If she hadn't already known that vampires were territorial, it would have been abundantly clear after today. Cordelia hadn't fared much better being cooped up all day and had jumped to help Giles look for more books that might prove useful in their research on Xander's condition.

Well, there was only one way to discover the mystery caller's identity. "Hello, Summers' residence."

"Hello, Tara. Has my daughter totally destroyed the house yet?"

Tara gulped and swiftly stifled the sheer terror that rose in her throat. "N-no Ms. Summers. Everything's f-fine."

On the other end of the line Joyce chuckled softly. "Calm down, dear. I was just joking with you. I have total confidence in your ability to prevent my house from crumbling down to its foundation. So, how is everything in Sunnydale?"

"Well. . . ." Upstairs she heard a shrill shriek, followed by an indignant yell of fury. "Everything's g-good. Dawn and I watched movies last night. I got Army of Darkness. I hope that's okay?"

"I'm just glad I'm not the only woman who enjoys an hour and a half of Ash. I'm sure Dawnie loved it. What is my daughter up to at the moment?"

Frenzied steps stomped down the staircase. "Xander! Get back here right now!"

"Nuh-uh. You gotta catch me, shiny girl!"

Xander raced into the kitchen shortly followed by an infuriated Dawn Summers. A drippy wet, scowling, Dawn Summers whose look of absolute wrath was ruined by the glint of affection and mischief in her eyes. Reassured that the girl held no real malice for the younger boy, save a little good natured payback, Tara turned her attention back to Ms. Summers and let the two chase each other around the kitchen island.

In her hotel room, Joyce Summers heard the commotion and her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Is someone else over there?"

"Y-yeah," Tara answered quickly. "Xander and Dawn are playing."

It was the truth, technically. She felt like a heel keeping anything from the older woman, but she truthfully didn't know how much everyone shared with Ms. Summers when it came to the stranger side of Sunnydale.

"Well if the sound of my daughter's voice is any indication, Xander needs to find a rock to hide under for the next couple of weeks," Joyce said with laughter in her voice.

Dawn made a desperate grab for Xander as he rounded the corner of the island. Xander twisted away from her grasping hands and stuck his tongue out at the older girl as she bumped the counter. Several objects on the island wobbled alarmingly, but were ignored as she quickly righted herself and darted after the laughing boy.

"Yeah, laugh now, boy," she taunted. "You'll be singing a different tune when I get my hands on you!"

"You're slower than a snail, Dawnie!" he teased right back. More chasing and laughing followed.

Tara grinned at the two's antics before going back to her conversation. "Oh, he's running," she told Joyce. "Whether she catches him remains to be seen."

"I take it they're having fun?" Joyce asked with a smile. From what little she could hear over the line, she figured she'd be having a much better time at home in Sunnydale than on her buying trip. All the art was interesting, but didn't compare to watching Xander pester her younger daughter. The only thing better was when the two ganged up on Buffy. Honestly, sometimes her older daughter took herself way too seriously. She guessed it came from being the Slayer.

"Yeah, they are," she informed Joyce. Another body impacted against the island and rattled the dishes. Maybe a little too much fun, she added mentally. She'd better stop their little game of tag before something got. . .

CRASH!

. . . Too late. A vase had finally wobbled too far and succumbed to gravity. Looking up, Tara saw two pairs of eyes look first at the remains of the vase, then at her guiltily.

"Oops," Dawn offered weakly from her position behind the island. Xander's eyes fell back to the floor and he quickly started to move away from the glass remains at his feet. His bare feet, Tara noticed with growing concern.

"Xander. Don't move!" she warned him as she began to move forward to keep him from hurting himself on the shards decorating the floor.

Xander immediately froze and looked up at Tara with wide eyes. "I'm s-sorry," he stammered. "I can pick it up."

"No, don't touch it, Xan. I'll get it when I get over there," she tried to reassure him.

"What's going on?" Joyce asked, curious to what had caused the sudden silence.

But Tara wasn't paying attention to Ms. Summers any longer. Her attention was solely on Xander. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up. You don't have to do anything." His voice got more desperate as he continued and tears pooled in his eyes even as he began to tremble. Tara's blood ran cold. She knew that look. It brought back images of hurt and fear, and memories she thought she'd buried the day she had left for college.

She stopped in her tracks when she realized that Xander's look was directed at her and mentally cursed. Her moment of pause made her aware that Joyce was still on the line and getting more frantic by the second.

"Tara, what's wrong? Is Xander hurt? Tara? Tara, are you still there?"

Tara swallowed the lump in her throat. "Sorry, Ms. Summers. I'm going to give you to Dawn and she'll explain everything, ok?"

"All right, dear," Joyce told her quietly, disturbed by the small, frightened voice she'd heard over the line a moment ago.

Tara handed the phone to a wide eyed, confused Dawn with quick instruction to fill her in on everything that had happened in the last two days. Then she focused back on Xander.

"Xan? Sweetie?" Careful of the glass around her, she slowly moved to the counter that Xander had backed into. She made sure she stayed in his sight the entire time then crouched down to his level.

Xander followed her every move. "I'm s-sorry," he told her shakily once she'd gotten to his side. "It w-was an a-a-accident."

The sound of his stutter almost made her break down completely. She remembered a time shortly after she'd started regularly attending Scooby meetings. Xander had snuck up behind her and Willow during one of their research parties and startled them. Willow, being used to his antics, had merely turned around and smacked his shoulder good naturedly before returning to her work. But Tara had dropped the book she had been holding and barely been able to restrain a terror filled shriek. She had tried to shake the shock off, but couldn't completely hold off the case of the shivers she got. Willow had given her a quick pat on the shoulder, but otherwise not noticed how affected she was by being startled. Embarrassed at her extreme reaction, Tara had covered up her nerves by bending down to pick up her book.

When she stood back up, she realized that Xander was still there, abeit further away now. Shame filled his eyes as he took one of her hands gently. "I am so sorry," he apologized softly.

"I-it's o-okay," she'd stammered. Xander winced at her stutter, and his expression became even more regretful. Tara had never noticed how much emotion his face showed before. "You just s-surprised me . . . is all." She offered him a weak smile.

Xander smiled back at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes were full of apology, and something else she couldn't identify. He'd never snuck up on her again.

Looking at the little boy practically cowering in front of her now, she knew what that unidentified emotion was now. It was empathy.

"Xan," she spoke softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"Y-you're not?" he asked cautiously.

Tara shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise," Tara told him solemnly. "You're barefoot. I didn't want you to step in the glass."

Xander looked down at his feet, then back up at Tara. The frightened look was fading now, replaced by embarrassment. "Oh," he whispered.

Tara smiled gently at him, then held out her arms. "Can I get you away from the glass?"

"Okay," Xander allowed her to pick him up and set him on the table.

Tara checked him over quickly to make sure he hadn't been cut by the falling glass. Satisfied that he was uninjured, she pulled up a chair and sat. Sitting on the table, Xander was slightly above eye level, still looking at her nervously. Tara slowly reached up a hand and cupped the boy's cheek.

Their gazes met. "I would never hurt you, Xan."

Xander studied Tara's face for several seconds. Tara sat there patiently and let him. His eyes scrutinized her every feature for some kind of subterfuge. The Wiccan returned his gaze trying her hardest to be open with him. She saw the change in his expression and watched the tension flow out of him. She didn't move as he lifted his hand and mimicked her earlier actions.

His tiny hand pressed lightly against her cheek. "I believe you."

Then his face abruptly broke into a grin and she found herself the recipient of an enthusiastic hug. Apparently Xander had become a spontaneous hugger early in life. Tara hugged him back tightly, not minding the affection one bit. They were still holding each other when Dawn returned from the living room with the cordless phone.

"You okay, Xan?" the younger girl asked quietly.

Xander gave Dawn a quick grin and a nod over Tara's shoulder before letting go of her and settling more comfortably in her lap. Tara saw the phone in Dawn's hand and motioned for her to hand it over. Dawn said a quick goodbye to her mother before complying to Tara's wishes and heading back into the living room. Xander watched Dawn leave then gave Tara a questioning look.

She smiled down at Xander and nodded. "Watch out for glass in here and please don't chase Dawnie anymore." she told him.

"Okay, Tara," He slid off her lap and went in search of his newest playmate.

"M-Ms. Summers," Tara began.

"Is Xander all right?" Joyce interrupted, worry clearly in her voice.

"He's fine," Tara reassured the older woman. "He and Dawn knocked the vase off the kitchen island. I was afraid he would hurt himself on the pieces of glass. He thought I was mad that he'd broken something. Speaking of, I'll pay for the vase."

"Don't worry about it. My mother-in-law bought it for me. I've been waiting for one of my girls to break it for years. Why else would I set it on something my children constantly chase each other around?" Joyce chuckled. "Oh, you poor girl. And I thought watching Dawn for me would be difficult."

"They're being good, Ms. Summers," Tara told her. "Dawn's been really helpful with Xan since Spike showed up on our doorstep."

"Yes, about that," Joyce interrupted.

Tara bit her lip. "I'm sorry for inviting Spike in your house, but I couldn't think of any other options at the time. Spike was bleeding to a second death, and Xander looked so small and helpless. . . .I just couldn't turn them away. . . ."

"It's all right, dear," Joyce reassured her. "It's true that the thought of Spike in my house alone with you and Dawn, not to mention little Xander makes me uneasy. But I know that you're not a fool. And Spike is fully aware of the consequences of violating the sanctity of my home."

Listening to Joyce's tone of voice at that statement, she realized why a Master Vampire the likes of William the Bloody held the older woman in such high esteem. She had no doubt that the woman would hunt the vampire to the ends of the earth if he ever hurt any of her children.

"He's been a perfect gentleman the entire time he's stayed with us," Tara reassured Joyce. "He actually been a great help with Xander. The two of them have been getting along surprisingly well. I think it was because Xander doesn't realize that vampires are evil, but then again, he really doesn't like Angel."

Joyce snorted. "Angel had better hope he's gone by the time I get back to Sunnydale."

"Angel's helping us," Tara tried to intervene on the older vampire's behalf.

"He hit you," Joyce disputed through gritted teeth.

"It, it was an accident," Tara argued weakly.

"There is no excuse. He barged into the house with no thought to any possible innocent bystanders. Tell me, what would you have done if he'd struck Dawn or Xander?"

On the other end of the line, Tara's face darkened. "We'd have been having undead frog legs for dinner," she answered coldly.

The grin on Joyce's face was full of vicious delight. She knew there was steel to the timid girl. "You shouldn't expect less of a reaction because it was you that was hit. He's hundreds of years old, he should know better."

"I know, Ms. Summers," Tara reassured her. "Other than the little Angel fiasco, everything been great. Dawn's been helping us watch Xander. I think she really enjoys having someone to look after."

"I'm sure she does," Joyce agreed a smile audible in her voice. "She's always wanted a little brother or sister." Joyce paused for a moment. "You are taking pictures, right?"

Tara giggled. "Of course," she answered.

"Xander's such a sweet young man," Joyce commented. "He has to be completely adorable as a child."

"You have no idea," Tara said with a smile.

Joyce laughed. "He used the puppy dog eyes on you, didn't he?" Tara's shocked silence was the only confirmation she needed. "He had me giving him cookies every time he dropped by the house at sixteen. On a six year old those eyes must be lethal."  
"He had Giles reading to him during our research session, Cordelia played Legos with him for two hours this afternoon, and Spike has promised that he will learn the Snoopy Dance tonight."

By this time Joyce was gasping for breath through her giggles. "That settles it. I'm catching a flight home first thing in the morning."

"You don't have to do that," Tara interrupted. "We've got everyting handled. You don't need to cut your trip short."

"And miss all the fun?" Joyce asked in disbelief. "I'm coming home so I can see my daughter be a big sister, tease Spike and Mr. Giles, and spoil Xander rotten. That boy needs some coddling and it's been far too long since I've had a little one running around the house. I'll call you when I get my flight details, dear."

Tara capitulated to the inevitable and said a quick goodbye with a promise to take many pictures. That done, she focused once again on dinner, glad she had the forethought to cook something not easily burned if left briefly unattended.

She was just drain the pasta and giving the meaty sauce on last stir when the she heard the door slam.

"Spike and Deadboy are back!" Dawn and Xander yelled simultaneously from the living room.

"Dinner's ready! Go wash up!" she yelled back.

The Wicca grabbed a couple of handfuls of plates from the cabinet and set them on the counter before going back for glasses and silverware. Spike wandered into the kitchen a moment later and grabbed the ice out of the freezer and began filling the glasses. He moved out of the way just as Tara returned from her own trip to the refridgerator for Kool-Aid. She idly passed the blonde a packet of blood as she passed him. Spike picked up the mug sitting on the counter and moved to the microwave to prepare his own dinner. The two of them went about the routine completely unconscious of their inherent awareness of one another. But Angel was struck by the symmetry of their movements as he observed them from his place just outside the kitchen doorway. Two people rarely interacted this flawlessly without a degree of intimacy between them that he knew did not exist between the timid girl and his grandchilde. It made the older vampire curious, and slightly uneasy. Of course, this whole surreal situation made him twitchy.

Within moments, the kids were in the kitchen where they were handed plates, given glasses of Kool-Aid, and herded to the table. Tara shyly extended an invitation to Angel, but he declined to join them. This earned him a derisive snort from Spike which he pointedly ignored before retreating to the living room. Sitting at the table, eating and occasionally slinging spaghetti, the four painted a portrait of domesticity that Angel never thought he'd see. Spike, for all the love and devotion he lavished on Drusilla was a fundamentally wild creature who acted out every whim he felt with reckless abandon. At least, that's how he remembered the younger vampire. Spike had said himself, that demons didn't change, but the vampire sitting at the Summers table making sure Xander had no trouble cutting up his spaghetti into manageable pieces was a far cry from the demon who eviscerated an entire household of Londoners with dull railroad spikes just for the thrill of the chase when the bobbies walked in on the scene. Angel knew one thing for certain. He needed to have a long talk with Spike.

TBC. . .

Next chapter: More unexpected visitors and more hijacks!


	11. Chapter 10: Bathtime and Revenge

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: At the moment, not much worse than the show, quite a bit tamer at times, actually.

Summary: Adventures in Babysitting, Sunnydale style!

A/N: Please don't kill me. I plea horrible writer's block. Of course, now that I'm packing to move, inspiration strikes. I must have kicked up some bunnies or jostle my muse out of her coma or something. For example, the first scene was agonized over for months before it sounded anywhere close to how I wanted. The next conversation I wrote in five minutes. Go figure.

I will try my damnedest to start updating steadily because all the reviews and feedback are totally awesome! Thanks for sticking in there guys. I'll try not to disappoint.

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"Do I have to?"

Tara cringed internally. "Must resist the puppy eyes," she whispered under her breath as she met the pleading gaze of the world's youngest looking nineteen year old. Xander gave her the most innocent, wide-eyed stare she'd ever witnessed. She would have caved into the pressure right then and there if the look wasn't identical to what had adorned his face an hour earlier immediately after he'd dropped spaghetti down the back of Dawn's shirt.

"Yes you do." The stare kicked up a notch. Tara didn't even think it was possible to look that pathetic at only a moment's notice. "Xan, you're taking a bath, and that's final."  
"But I'm not dirty!" Xander exclaimed. He must have been in denial about the spaghetti sauce creating red spikes in his hair.

Tara shoved down the smile that wanted to creep over her lips. What was it about kids never wanting to take a bath? Her younger cousins had all been the same way when she babysat them back home. They always tried to pull this on her, thinking the "nice" cousin would let them get away with it. Tara pretended to ponder over Xander exclamation and watched as the boy's face grew more hopeful with her continued silence.

"How about I give you a choice?" Tara finally asked at length.

Xander's face immediately grew suspicious. "What kind of choice?" he asked warily.

The smile that Tara had fought to keep off her face came back in full force at the look. The kid could sense a trap a mile away. "Take a bath and you can watch movies as late as you want. Don't take a bath and you have to help Dawnie with the dishes."

Her only answer was the sound of feet pounding up the stairs and a hastily removed shirt falling at her feet. Oh, yeah. She was the master.

Chuckling, she followed the newly enthusiastic six year old, picking up the shirt as she went. She turned it right side out and started to fold it before she realized what she was doing. With a shake of her head, she crumpled up the soiled garment and tossed it into the hamper as she entered the bathroom.

"Tara," Xander grabbed her hand in both of his smaller ones. "The water won't turn on right. Help me?"

"Sure, sweetie," she told him as she allowed herself to be pulled to the tub.

Xander shot her a smile before sitting on the edge of the tub. Tara ruffled his sauce stiffened hair as she reached for the knobs on the faucet. Absentmindedly folding clothes? Being the absolute authority on perfect bath water temperature? She'd start developing Mom Voice soon if she wasn't careful.

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"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Peaches?" Spike fumed.

Angel paused mid-reach. "I thought it was obvious," he answered with a slight smirk. "We were told to bring back movies." The souled vampire shook the movie case he gripped slightly. "It's a movie."

Spike snatched the movie from his hand. "We can't get this movie."

Said movie was then tossed over a duster clad shoulder as Spike continued down the aisle. Angel just managed to catch his selection before it clattered on the carpeted floor.

"Why can't we get this one?" Angel was confused. "It's a cartoon"

"It doesn't follow Glinda's rating rule."

Angel turned the movie over. "It's rated G, Spike."

"That movie is evil."

"It's Disney? What's evil about Disney?"

Spike's expression plainly stated to Angel that he was obvious a naïve moron for even thinking Spike would deign to respond to that question. However, Angel was not going to drop the issue.

"Spike, it's about baby animals. What could possibly -"

"It's Bambi, Peaches. We are not getting that movie!"

Something in Spike expression must have convinced Angel of the movie's malevolent nature. After giving it a quick once over, he placed it back on the shelf warily. He'd have to ask Cordelia about it later.

He picked up another selection. "What about _Charlotte's Web_?"

"Nope, the Nibblet hates creepy crawlies."

"_Old Yeller_?"

"Only if you want to stop at the grocery for extra tissues."

Angel sighed in frustration. "What about this one?" he asked impatiently and thrust a movie into Spike's empty hands.

"Bozo the Clown?" Spike snorted. "Yeah, that will go over well. The whelp's scared to death of the painted faced buggers. Bleeding hell, don't you know anything about anyone other than her Blonde Bitchiness?"

The rejected movie was tossed aside as easily as _Bambi_, with no regard for store protocolAngel came through with a great catch as he followed behind his destructive grandchilde.The next four discarded movies were also saved by the brooding avenger, although a poorly positioned popcorn display almost spelled disaster for the movie store's lone copy of "Pollyanna".

"Spike!"

The younger vampire turned to his ruffled grandsire. "Yes?" he asked sedately. Angel glared at Spike, his displeasure at the vampire's action plainly written on his face. Too bad Spike didn't give a shit.

Another movie was selected and the bleach blonde vampire watched Angel tense. Spike bit his lip in feigned concentration to hide the smirk that wanted to show at the look on the older vampire's face. He wondered if Angel could catch another video or if they would all go flying in the attempt. After a few moments of contemplation, he decided against continuing his game of video Frisbee and turned the movie over to read the synopsis. Annoying the poof entertained Spike in a way that only few things could that didn't involve massive bloodshed. But this was the one place in Sunnydale where Spike could still rent movies, and in the end it wasn't worth the risk. He held onto the box; Bit had said something about getting "Fern Gully", and started looking for something he had a chance of enjoying.

"Are you just going to stand there holding all of those or are you going to help?" Spike called over his shoulder.

Angel's muttered curses were music to his ears.

Meanwhile. . . .

Willow practically danced into her hotel room letting the door slam behind her. Her mind was abuzz with all the gadgets and gizmos, and the newest technological advancements available. And the people! Goddess, but some of the people she'd talked to had been amazing. She had so much to tell Tara when she got home!

Willow's mind was so intent on the wonders of the convention that she almost missed the red message light blinking on the hotel room's phone. . . .

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"Tara, that healer girl from the other day is downstairs," Dawn said from the bathroom doorway.

The Wicca being addressed turned from where she was ensuring that Xander properly rinsed his hair. She tried not to think about how embarrassed Xander might be about her seeing him naked once they figured out how to make him nineteen again.

"Did you ask her in?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Do I look like a moron to you? She walked in of her own power, didn't even blink when I flicked holy water at her from the fountain Mom has on the bookshelf, and she was juggling three crosses when I walked up here to get you."

Downstairs, a thump was followed by a crash and a smattering of hushed curses.

"Make that two crosses," the younger Summers amended with a smirk.

Tara sighed in exasperation. "Was it really necessary to make her juggle after passing the invite and holy water tests?"

Dawn frowned. "But I didn't make her juggle."

The blonde blinked. Honestly, why did she even try to understand people in Sunnydale anymore? She turned back to the shower. "Xan, you've got three more minutes and then you have to get out, okay?"

"Alright, Tara," she heard him say through the shower curtain.

"I'll be downstairs," she told him as she headed for the door. "Dawn, keep an eye on him for me?"

The younger girl gave the Wicca a mock salute. "Roger dodger, Witchy-witch."

If Tara would have paid closer attention she would have witnessed Dawn's look of perky exuberance slide into a mask of delightful wickedness as soon as Tara exited the bathroom. With a leer that would have had made Angelus stand up and take notice, Dawn pulled an object from behind her back and stalked toward her unsuspecting victim.

Tara made her way down the stairs quickly, catching a glimpse of Jude as she finished hastily repositioning a flower arrangement to hide the fact it had been upturned on the floor only moments ago. Even if she hadn't seen the younger girl attempting to hide the evidence of her folly, the over enthusiastic, and patently fake smile she gave the witch as she came into view gave her away.

"Hey, Tara," Jude called. Her smile became more genuine even if the cheer was still a little forced. "How goes everything in your corner of the world?"

"Completely crazy, as usual," Tara answered with a grin. "You should know that by now, Jude." She motioned Jude into the living room, following not far behind her. "So, you here to look in on your patients?'

Jude started to answer in the affirmative, when a surprised shriek echoed down from upstairs.

"Dawn!" a young voice squealed. "You, you . . .you big meanie!" The only answer to this condemnation was an explosion of evil cackling.

Downstairs Tara instantly relaxed at the sound. If Xander had actually been hurt she knew the younger Summers girl would not be laughing and taunting the outraged boy.

"If you can't take it, don't start the prank war, fledge!" Dawn accused between cackles.

"I'm gonna get you, Dawn!"

Jude shared a smile with Tara as they listened in on the quickly escalating argument. The young healer chuckled. "Well it sounds like the little guy's feeling better."

"What are you going to do from in the shower, Xan? Huh?" Dawn's taunting was abruptly cut off by a much more feminine squeal and a small splash. Tara rolled her eyes heavenward.

"You two better not be making a mess up there," Tara called up the stairs. All bickering immediately silenced. Tara smirked even as she checked off "calm argument stopping voice" on her list of acquired Mom traits. "I don't think either one of you wants to clean up the bathroom."

"We're good," Dawn assured her from upstairs.

"Xander, it's time for you to get out anyway."

"Okay, Tara. I'll get him out."

"I can get out by myself!" she heard Xander yell in a scandalized voice.

She decided to let the two of them figure it out. It would do them some good. The Wicca turned her attention back to their visitor.

Still laughing silently at the antics of the two upstairs, Jude settled into a comfy looking chair while Tara took a seat on the couch nearby.

"So, anyway. Spike's not here at the moment, but he should be back any minute."

"I can wait until he gets back to check them over," Jude assured Tara. "Everything felt right when I was here last, and since I hadn't heard anything from you in the last couple of days I figured everybody was good. . . . . Everything is good, right?"

"Yeah, everything seems fine," Tara answered, her brow furrowed slightly.

Truthfully, she hadn't known Jude all that long. But the girl was acting decidedly anxious. And she hadn't really paid much attention before, but now that they were sitting in the living room, Jude was looking rather frayed. Her natural tan was several shades paler than usual, and her usually animated manner was muted into a sort of fatigued jitteriness that was disconcerting. That along with Jude's hesitant question had her taking another look at her friend.

"Jude," Tara started. From the way the girl ducked her head slightly at the witch's tone, Tara's suspicions bled into her voice. "What's wrong?"

"The healing just took a little more out of me than I expected, is all," Jude explained, her eyes focused on her hands. "I always like to check up on who I heal, especially the big ones."

The longer Tara studied the healer, the more she realized that Jude was not operating at one hundred percent. Her suspicion made way for concern. "How much more than usual, Jude?"

Jude bit her lip and blushed slightly. The color that rose in her cheeks only accented her pallor. "I woke up twenty minutes ago," she finally admitted softly.

Tara gaped. Jude had just admitted to sleeping for two days. She knew she was not an authority on healer, having only a passing curiosity with their kind before stumbling across Jude one unexpected night, but anything that caused your body to shut down for that length of time meant something. The amount of energy that kind of reaction entailed boggled the mind.

"T-two days," she finally managed. "Are you okay? Do you need to l-lie down?"

Jude finally met Tara's gaze with a tired grin. "Nah, I'm good. I'll most likely crawl back into bed the second I get back to Grandma's but I'm fine."

Tara still looked doubtful, but timely arrival of Dawn and Xander from upstairs saved the young healer from any more questions.

"Put me down!" Xander shouted from his position hanging over Dawn's shoulder.

"Who's the master?" the younger Summers sing-songed.

As she taunted, the fingers on her free hand danced up and down the younger (well at the moment anyway) boy's sides. Xander squirmed as much as he was able, which was not a lot considering his precarious perch.

"Say it, fledge," she demanded.

"You can't make me, shiny girl!" Apparently Xander's stubbornness survived his de-aging.

The tickling only intensified when Dawn reached the bottom of the stairs. "You wanna bet on that, Xanny?"

"Dawn," Tara interrupted reluctantly. She was getting some great pictures after all. "Put Xander down before all of the blood rushes to his head."

The girl pouted momentarily, but strode over to the couch and flopped the still squirming boy onto its cushions like a sack of potatoes. She scowled at Xander's triumphant grin. "This isn't over," she warned him darkly.

Xander merely giggled and stuck his tongue out at the glowering teenager. Dawn pinned him with a death glare she must have learned from her older sister. The look was blatantly ignored. Still grinning, the boy turned his head to look at Tara where she was sitting at the other end of the couch.

"Is Spike back yet, Goodwitch?"

As if on cue, the door opened and Spike strolled into the room as if he owned the place. Angel entered not far behind, shoulders tense and swearing quite profusely under his breath. A bag of rented videos swung in the clenched grasp of his left hand.

"Spike!" Xander cried happily as he pushed himself off the couch.

Spike smiled as the young boy fairly bounced over to his side. "Miss me, you little rugrat?" He ruffled Xander's damp mop of hair. "I see Glinda got all the sauce out nicely," he observed.

"Dawn threw cold water on me in the shower."

"Tattle tale!" Dawn cried out indignantly.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Spike asked, distracting Xander from making faces at his prank war arch nemesis.

Xander grinned quite maliciously for a six year old. "I'm still thinking about it," he responded.

Spike's eyes lit up with unholy glee and he gave Xander's shoulder a squeeze. "With a noggin as calculating and devious as you've got, she'll be begging for mercy in no time, fledge."

The youngest member of the Scourge of Europe barely contained a smirk when he saw Angel flinch at Xander's newest nickname. Whether purely from the vampiric connotation or from actual thoughts of the whelp as a true fledge, Spike wasn't certain. Either way equaled a twitchy Angel, so who cared? He pulled two objects out of an inside pocket of his duster.

"Got a pressie for you and the nibblet," Spike said and pulled out a pair of chocolate bars. He handed one to a still bouncing Xander. "Now you share with your shiny girl pal, all right?" He pointedly ignored his grandsire's angry glare. If the pouf was actually surprised by him pinching candy from the video store, then obviously the only reason behind the git's long unlife was blind luck.

Xander's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas at the sight of the chocolate. "Thanks, Spike!" He gave the vampire a quick hug around his leg then ran into the living room to no doubt share his good fortune with Dawn. Prank war or not, chocolate was an instant truce-maker.

"You're lucky you only gave them the one chocolate bar to share," Tara spoke up from where she leaned on the doorway to the living room.

"I'm evil, ducks, not stupid," Spike returned. "Besides, I know you love Almond Joy."

Tara caught the tossed candy bar with an embarrassed grin. She'd never realized that Spike paid that much attention to the Scoobies' habits, not to mention her own. "T-thank you," she spoke with just the slightest stammer.

"Spike? Where are the movies?" Dawn called from the living room.

Tara smirked at the disgruntled look that came to Spike's face at the teenaged girl's demanding shout. "You better get in there before she sends out the hounds."

Spike gave the witch a glare that a week ago would have sent her scurrying toward the nearest bolt hole. Today the look was only responsible for making the blond Wicca's smirk widen into a grin. With a shake of his head, Spike grabbed his grandsire and dragged him and the movies still clutched in Angel's hand into the living room.

Tara's grin morphed into a quiet chuckle when she saw the look on Angel's face at being manhandled by the blond vampire. She was about to follow the duo when she heard the phone ring and detoured to the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello, Summers' residence."

"Tara, what has happened to my boyfriend?"

Tara sighed. Only one woman she knew was that direct. "Hi, Anya. We're not exactly sure right now. . . ."

"Is he all right?" Anya asked in a far more vulnerable voice than the blonde had ever heard from the former demon.

"He's fine, Anya. He had a little run-in with a couple of demons, but Spike killed them off and everyone's okay. We just haven't figured out why he's suddenly a six year old." Tara's tone softened even further than normal at hearing the genuine concern in Anya's voice. She knew if something like this had happened to Willow she would be going quietly mad at this point given the circumstances.

"Oh," Anya paused momentarily as she let the longest sentence she'd ever heard Tara utter filter into her brain. "Good. If that's the case I don't see why Willow is frantically trying to get me to pack. I have full confidence in your babysitting abilities if Mrs. Summers trusts you with her younger child. And Spike can fight any demons that try to attack between now and tomorrow."

"Thank you, Anya," Tara said in response to the unexpected compliment from the ex-demon.

"No need to thank me," Anya replied. "I am only stating facts. So, tell me," Tara could practically see Anya's lips curl into a smile, "is Xander attractive as a small child?"

"He's adorable," Tara answered with a smile of her own. "I've been taking pictures."

"I'll pay you for doubles when Willow and I get there tomorrow," Anya told her. "Now you better talk to your girlfriend before she dislocates my shoulder trying to get to the phone. I don't want to repay you for watching over my boyfriend by hurting your girlfriend for annoying me. It would be rude."

Tara didn't giggle at that statement, really. "Bye, Anya," she said before hearing the tell-tale signs of a phone receiver exchanging hands.

The sheer amount of rapid fire babble left no doubt as to the identity of the new speaker, but still didn't give her any clue to what she was saying.

"Willow. . . Willow?" Tara said trying to interrupt her lover's diatribe. "Will, honey, you've got to slow down so I can understand what you're saying." The babbling began tapering off. "Take a deep breath and start again, sweetie."

The red headed Wicca followed the blonde's instructions and this attempt while no less emotional was paced at a speed that Tara could translate.

"It's okay Willow, Xander's fine," she rushed to reassure her lover.

On the other end of the line, Willow sniffled. "I should have called you sooner. But, no, I had to get all distracted by the shiny new technology and totally forgot about my girlfriend and my best friend in danger on the Hellmouth!"

"Sssh, honey. Calm down. There's no way you could have known this would happen. We don't even know what happened exactly. But we've got everything under control."

"I should be there helping you," Willow argued. "Anya and I can leave in half an hour."

"With the traffic this time of night you would be on the road until midnight before you got here," Tara rationalized. "I miss you and I can't wait to see you again, Willow, but you can wait until morning to come back. Xander's safe here playing with Dawn, Spike's helping out, and Angel's been patrolling to gather information while Cordelia helps us all research. . . ."

"Wait," Willow interrupted. "Angel and Cordelia are there?" Willow paused. "And Spike's helping? Voluntarily?"

Tara felt a sudden burst of annoyance at her girlfriend's tone when speaking of the blond vampire, but quickly pushed the impulse to defend Spike down. Willow wasn't here to see what Tara had seen the last few days. In Willow's mind, Spike ranked somewhere just above Faith on her Trust-O-Meter. Considering what she knew about her girlfriend's opinion of the rogue Slayer, that _really_ wasn't a compliment. Given Willow's opinion of Spike, it was understandable that she was noticeably disturbed to learn that he was caring for her best friend since early childhood while Xander was in such a vulnerable state. And truthfully, she couldn't explain her sudden acceptance of a being that had until recently frightened her out of her wits. Not in words, anyway.

Tara sighed mentally at her internal dialogue and sent up a silent prayer to the Goddess that everything would work out. "Yeah, it's been a hectic couple of days. I'm still waiting for the rain of toads."

"Eew! Tara, don't even joke about that!" Willow exclaimed with an audible shuddle.

Let it never be said that Tara couldn't take a page from Xander's book and deflect attention with the use of humor. She usually opted instead to escape notice entirely, but she was discovering lately that the yoke of meek wallflower was starting to chafe slightly.

Tara used Willow's momentary distraction to steer the conversation in the direction she needed it to go. "Promise me you won't do anything rash, sweetie. You and Anya stay in LA tonight and drive in tomorrow after you've had time to calm down."

She heard Willow sigh on the other end of the line and knew she'd gotten her point across. "I'm just scared that you'll get hurt if I'm not there to help you," Willow admitted quietly.

At that moment, Tara wanted nothing more than to hug the red headed Wicca until all the worry drained from her body. The scared timbre of her lover's voice filled her with an almost compulsive need to do something to make everything all right again. And she would, first thing tomorrow morning when Willow returned from LA with Anya.

"Oh, Will. I want you here with me, too. Always. I'm already thinking about how long I can kiss you before I have to come up for air when you get here tomorrow."

The tiny gasp Tara heard on the other end of the line told her that Willow's cheeks were almost certainly turning crimson right now. She wished she could see it.

"I'm definitely getting up early tomorrow," Willow managed to comment after a few moments. "I love you."

"I love you too, Willow. I'll see you in the morning. Bye."

Tara hung up the phone and stared at the receiver for a few moments in the futile hope that focusing hard enough might give her a glimpse of her cherished red head. Shaking herself slightly, she turned toward the living room. She could pine away later. Right now there were movies to be watched and tomorrow would come soon enough.

TBC. . .

I wanted to go further, but I figured I'd find a good stopping point while the ideas were still coming in order to not get stuck again for many, many months.

Next chapter: Movie watching and other surprises! And Joyce! You can't forget Joyce!


	12. Chapter 11: Contemplation and Weirdness

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: Mature, I guess. There's nothing too bad thus far, but I'd rather err on the side of caution.

A/N: I've had half of this chapter written for about a year and a half. Finally I had time for inspiration to strike. This story's not dead, I'm just horrible about updating. I really am going to try to keep up the updates. Also, I wanted to have more happen in this chapter (because I want to get to the good part), but decided to cut it off here. Let me know what you think and I'll try to keep on task a little better.

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The town of Sunnydale did not cater to the early-riser. Early mornings meant shadowed alleys. The business patrons of the town quickly learned that a trip to the dumpster was best done after noon or before the sun dipped below the level of the surrounding buildings. Therefore, the Main Street stores, including The Magic Box, opened at eleven. City Hall and the public library both had floor to ceiling south facing windows and opened at ten. The coffee and doughnut shops of Sunnydale opened promptly at eight. The morning manager at Starbucks was a cheerful fellow prone to pranks. Any early bird customers got shot with a water pistol. The occasional dark clad patron became quite put out by it.

Tara herself was an avid early riser before she moved to Sunnydale. One of the few pleasures in her life at that time was greeting the new day as it was born. However, months of late night patrolling and research sessions, not to mention her own course load of classes had forced her to curb the frequency of her morning ritual. After a while she just couldn't stand being sleep deprived.

But this morning she was up just after sunrise sitting in the kitchen and nursing a cup of coffee. Truth be told Tara wished that she was still upstairs sleeping, but her thoughts wouldn't calm themselves long enough to get more than a few hours of sleep. Mrs. Summers was due to return before midmorning which was enough to cause a little anxiety. And Tara was also more than a little excited about seeing Willow when she returned with Anya from L.A. Any of these things could have driven her out of bed early. However her need for early morning introspection actually stemmed from something else.

Her girlfriend, Willow's, magic was very aggressive and mostly physical. Tara rationalized that part of the reason for this was because Willow grew up on the Hellmouth. Tara didn't have nearly that level of brute strength. In fact, she didn't want it. However, after months of working with the redhead Tara now knew that she was much more aware of the ebb and flow of magic around her. While Willow drew on magic and felt the power it gave her, Tara had an intuitive sense about the world around her. The aftermath of some of Willow's magic experiments clearly showed that her girlfriend did not share this ability. Or she did, but didn't care, a thought that was much more foreboding. When something was out of balance, Tara could feel it. That ability had led her to one of the most confusing things about the whole situation with Xander. Tara hadn't gotten any unnatural feelings when Xander had arrived with Spike the other night. She couldn't detect anything wrong with him even now. If the young witch didn't know for a fact that Xander was supposed to be nineteen years old, she would never guess there was anything wrong. The lack of imbalance confused her, especially after last night.

_Flashback to the night before. . . _

Giles and Cordelia arrived back at the Summers' house soon enough after Spike and Angel's return that Xander and Dawn offered them some of their candy bar. Giles politely refused, but Cordy ended up snagging a piece from the Devious Duo and a chunk of Almond Joy from Tara.

After assuring himself that Cordelia was still in one piece and willing to stay with the Sunnydale gang, such as it was, for the remainder of the night, Angel left. He planned on questioning the clientele at Willie's, and if that didn't work patrolling the town's cemeteries. Anything to get him away from Spike and the others at the Summers' household.

The souled vampire just did not feel comfortable being in the same room as them. Watching them interact reminded him that the Hellmouth wasn't his domain any longer. A part of him loathed the fact that Spike, of all people, might have a claim on the territory now. So after telling Cordelia to call if she needed anything and saying a polite if brief goodbye to Tara, Dawn, and Giles, Angel left to do what he could on the street.

Tara for one wasn't sad about him going. The souled vampire's dual nature felt prickly to her senses, unnatural. Once Angel left Spike visibly relaxed which put both Xander and Dawn more at ease. The two now sat at the coffee table, Legos stacked in front of them.

Tara watched as Xander methodically built his tower higher and Dawn alternated between building and talking with Jude, who was sitting on the couch behind her. Tara had made the young healer stay after seeing how wane she looked when she showed up to check on Spike and Xander's condition. When Spike had seen the girl he had rebuked her in a far less gruff tone than normal saying she should be more concerned about her own condition than those she 'd worked her mojo on. Jude had put up a mild protest, but the argument was abruptly halted by Giles' interjection of, "You are staying; sit down." accompanied by The Look. The two had met gazes and enacted a silent argument for several seconds before Jude broke eye contact with a frown and settled down on the couch.

When Tara looked at the older man curiously Giles shrugged. "I promised her grandmother that I would keep a close eye on her after taking her home in such a horrid state the other night."

Tara's questioning gaze focused back on Jude. At the renewed attention Jude's demeanor switched from sheepish to defiant despite her obvious exhaustion.

"It needed to be done or I wouldn't have been able to do it," she stated. She watched Xander tossing a pillow back and forth with Spike and smiled. "I'm glad I was able to do it."

Tara sighed but nodded in acceptance. She couldn't put too much blame on Jude for doing something she would have done if she had the ability. "You're still staying here until someone can take you home later. And I'm going to make you a sandwich which you _will _eat."

"Yes, mother," Jude quipped with a grin.

Needless to say, after sleeping for two days straight Jude's sandwich disappeared very quickly. But the apparent energy drain of healing could only be pushed aside for so long. By this point Jude's conversation with Dawn was the only thing keeping her awake. Tara figured that the next time Dawn got caught up in the movie she'd turn back around and find her new friend asleep.

While Tara mentally starting figuring out the logistics of where everyone would sleep with the now likely addition of a healer to the overnight occupancy, Xander grabbed her hand and led her over to the Legos. Tara happily obliged the boy's desire to play. Playing Legos was routine enough that she could ponder and build at the same time. Xander seemingly noticed that the young witch was occupied and contented himself with continuing his building from his position beside her. Apparently he wanted Tara's proximity more than her participation with his project.

In the background _Spaceballs_ played on. While Tara played Legos, Spike and Dawn began an animated discussion on Good Schwartz versus Bad Schwartz. Dawn maintained that Good Schwartz was stronger. Spike argued that Bad Schwartz was superior by far; Dark Helmut was just a talent less putz. Jude seemed content to lay her chin atop her folded arms on the arm of the couch and listen to the byplay. Cordelia's attention alternated between the movie, the book on age regression in her lap, and filing her nails. Anyone who said Cordelia Chase couldn't multitask was a bold faced liar.

Giles had retreated to the kitchen to research after the third time Spike referred to the former Watcher as President Skroog. Giles had claimed that he needed a quieter environment to translate the subtle nuances of the medieval Latin, but Tara secretly thought that Giles had decided to vacate the living room to avoid throwing Legos in retaliation to Spike's teasing. Such an action would hardly maintain his stuffy librarian image.

It was such a domestic scene and Tara was loving every minute of it. Since she had moved to Sunnydale the young witch had started college, fought monsters, and even fallen in love. But this was the first time since her mother had died that she felt a sense of family. Since she'd started helping the Scooby Gang, Tara had watched Willow, Buffy, Xander, and Giles interact with each other. The four weren't related by blood, but they were family. After her mother had died Tara had gotten used to being near her family constantly. In the end, her family's intolerance and superstition had forced her to leave at the earliest opportunity, but even the absence of a _bad_ family made her lonely. She had gotten used to being a caregiver back home. It was nice to have that feeling back.

Tara was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of Legos crashing onto the coffee table. She looked to her right, prepared to joke with Xander about destroying his city. But the words stuck in her throat at the look on the boy's face. His expression was a mask of fear and concern focused intently at a totally oblivious Cordelia. Tara frowned as she too focused her attention on the brunette woman. Cordelia was concentrating on the book in front of her and wasn't looking the least bit threatened. So, what had frightened the boy?

Xander stared at Cordelia for a few more seconds and his eyes widened. "CeeCee?" the boy spoke cautiously.

Cordelia looked up from her book at his anxious question and noticed Xander's intense expression. Her face immediately clouded with worry. "Xan? What is it?"

If Tara hadn't been actively searching for a threat she never would have felt the whisper of magical energy tickle the back of her neck. It was the only warning Tara got before Cordelia clutched her head with one hand and started shrieking in agony.

"CeeCee!" Xander exclaimed in alarm.

The boy started to run to Cordelia's aid, but was grabbed by Tara before he could get past her.

"Tara, we have to _do_ something!" Xander sobbed as he struggled against her hold.

One of Cordelia's arms flung out and knocked a lamp from the table beside the chair she occupied. Tara flinched at the movement and bit her lip in worry. Giles, meanwhile had rushed into the living room at Cordelia's first shriek. Tara looked at the older man helplessly as she continued to hold Xander back.

"It's a vision," Giles stated, his face pale. "Though I had no clue the effects were so violent."

Xander's struggles had settled considerably. The boy was now alternating between trying to pull out of Tara's arms and leaning into her for comfort.

"It's hurting her," he whimpered.

Tara didn't say anything, just hugged the boy tighter, her heart breaking just a little more with each hitched breath she felt him take.

"Don't worry, Xan. It'll be over soon," she said as much to reassure herself as the little boy in her lap.

Tara's prediction proved correct as only moments later the pain left Cordelia's face and her struggling ceased. The brunette blinked, straightened up in her chair, and absently smoothed down her rumpled blouse.

"You all right over there, Cheerleader?" Spike asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I'm. . . pretty good, considering," Cordelia answered with a certain degree of shock. "I need to call Angel. We have to go back to L.A. tonight." She gingerly touched her temple in confusion. "Why isn't my head threatening to split wide open? Not that I'm complaining, but the mind crushing visions usually leave a whopping load of migraine behind."

"That would be me," Jude said weakly from her position on the couch. The healer was curled up in a ball on the couch with her eyes clenched shut.

"You?" Cordelia asked in amazement.

"It will hurt again the next time," Jude continued like Cordelia hadn't even spoken. "Sorry. I . . . I couldn't fix it. . . ." The healer took a shuddering breath. "Too much . . . It was too big." Jude shuddered again, then cracked her eyes open and glanced at Tara. "Bathroom?"

Tara took in the definite green tinge and wordlessly pointed. Jude lurched to her feet and bolted.

Cordelia watched the younger girl's retreat and felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn't asked Jude to act on her behalf. The seer usually considered the pain the price she had to pay to help out. But whatever the girl had done had not only taken away the pain, but made her feel better than she had in months. But now Jude was facing the consequences for giving Cordelia aid. She wished she could have stopped the girl from interfering, but if there was one thing that the former cheerleader had learned over the last few years was that sometimes you just had to let go and deal with what you got. So, she quickly pushed her guilt away and focused on the matter at hand.

But those higher beings better hope she never met Cordelia Chase face to face. They'd be getting an up close introduction to the toe of her Jimmy Choo's if that ever happened.

_Back to the present. . ._

After the vision Cordelia had relayed what she saw to Angel over her cell. Xander had run to the seer's side as soon as Tara let him go and stayed in the brunette's lap until Cordelia had left for L.A. with her boss. Jude had stumbled back into the living room several minutes after her quick departure paler than when she'd arrived earlier that evening and shaking with exhaustion. After a quick glance, Spike had gotten up and led the trembling girl back to her spot on the couch. Jude had fallen asleep seconds after sitting down. Giles had sighed and gone to call Jude's grandmother. There was no way he was taking her home in such a condition again.

With a minimum of rearrangement, Tara and Dawn had laid Jude down on the couch with a blanket and pillow. The exhausted healer hadn't as much as twitched as they removed her shoes and moved her into a more comfortable position.

Since nobody was in the mood for movie watching after all the excitement, everyone else decided to call it a night. Dawn magnanimously offered her room to Spike and Xander and proceeded to her sister's room for the night.

Tara had retired to Joyce's room, but sleep didn't come easily. Her mind kept going back to Cordelia's vision, or more precisely to the time right before she had the vision. Tara didn't know how it was possible, but Xander had known that something was wrong a full minute before Tara felt an inkling of power. She had never seen any evidence that Xander could do anything like this in the whole time she'd known him. Had she missed the fact that the young man could somehow sense danger, or was this ability a result of whatever had caused him to de-age?

"You're thinking too hard for so early in the morning."

Tara visibly startled at the intrusion in her thoughts, then turned and gave Spike a mild glare as he entered the kitchen. The sun wasn't high enough in the sky to shine across more than a couple of inches of the linoleum, giving the Spike a guarantee of safe passage to where Tara sat.

"Aren't vampires supposed to sleep during the day?" the witch snarked with a tiny frown.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Well look who's learned to be grouchy. Good on you, pet." The vampire pulled up a stool and sat facing the young woman. "I would be sleeping, but then I might miss something."

Tara lost any pretense of a frown and conceded Spike's point on the matter. "I don't think either Xander or Dawn would let you get any rest even if you tried anyway." She had to push down the urge to giggle she got at the mental image of Spike hiding in one of the bedrooms with his hands clamped over his ears while the kids ran screaming down the hallway.

"You've been brooding about the boy again, aren't you?" Spike accused.

Tara wanted to deny Spike's observation, but knew the vampire would spot the untruth in a second. She was a horrible liar. "I'm worried about what's been done to him. He's been turned into a child, but what happened last night. . . ."

"Was it really so unusual?" Spike interrupted as Tara's words trailed off.

"He knew Cordelia was going to have a vision before she did!" Tara countered. "Xander's never shown any kind of inclination toward magic or the supernatural before."

Tara was disconcerted when Spike started to chuckle at her statement. Actually, she was more than disconcerted; she was angry. Tara was worried about Xander and Spike was laughing at her. Her quickly changing temperament must have shown on her face, because Spike quickly sobered.

"Calm down, ducks. No need to pull out the big guns," Spike quickly added. "The whelp plays the lovable moron for the Slayer and your witch because that's the boy the two saw in high school. It's normal and safe for them and there is nothing the boy wouldn't do to keep his friends safe and happy. But you and I, we know better. The bumbling tosser he shows is not the be all end all of who he is."

Tara frowned. "So, it's possible that whatever made him know something was going to happen to Cordelia is an aspect of himself that Xander decided wasn't important enough to destroy Buffy and Willow's view of them?"

Spike shrugged. "Whelp's smarter than he looks. He knows not to go into a game showing all your cards. I don't know if he's hiding whatever we saw last night on purpose. But you and I both know that the boy lets people see what he wants them to see."

"Yeah," Tara agreed with a sigh. "The longer Xander is like this the more I realize that he learned to use Sunnydale blindness to his advantage long ago."

With that statement, Tara decided to let the subject drop. She could worry until her hair turned gray, or she could deal with whatever happened as it came. With lack of information about Xander's unlikely situation, the only thing Tara could do was wait. She had more immediate concerns.

"It's 8:30," Tara realized. "Why isn't Xander up yet?"

"He snuck over to the Niblet's room at about two this morning. He and the girl stayed up giggling until 4:30. They may not get up for a couple of hours yet."

Tara quirked a quick grin. "The children are asleep; we've got the whole house to ourselves." Tara spun around in her chair until she was facing Spike. "Whatever shall we do?"

Spike met Tara's grin with one of his own. The smile was much more mischievous than lecherous in nature. "I'm sure we can think of something."

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Joyce loved both of her daughters with an intensity that frightened her at times. She knew that when it came to the safety of her daughters' safety and happiness she could be quite ruthless. Now, she was not about to start killing off girls so her daughters could make the cheerleading squad. But Joyce did get the urge to find a way to slay vampires so Buffy would not have to. Being a slayer is dangerous and a mother's responsibility is to protect her children. Joyce knew she couldn't hold Buffy and Dawn's hands through all the trials of their lives, but that did not stop her from trying.

She couldn't slay vampires and demons, but Joyce could do her best to make the rest of her older daughter's life as normal and happy as possible. The eldest Summers woman also knew without a doubt that she could not keep Dawn away from the supernatural forever. Dawn loved her sister and her sister's friends too much to stand idly by while they protected the world. Her younger daughter needed to help them. Joyce knew that need intimately; she lived with that need every day. In the end, she could not deny Dawn the opportunity to help. But he could delay Dawn's initiation to Sunnydale's darker side as long possible. Buffy had to grow up too fast. So, Joyce was going to let Dawn be a kid until forced to let her go. And she was going to enjoy every moment of mother/daughter time she got with Dawn until that time came.

Given Buffy's calling and the dangers of the world that she had been quite abruptly introduced to, Joyce was often relieved that she and Hank had decided not to have more than two children. She loved her girls, but she didn't think her nerves could take the strain of worrying about another child.

At the moment, however, the stresses of motherhood had taken a backseat in her mind. She stood in the doorway of her younger daughter's bedroom and took in the sight of Dawn and a small dark headed figure cuddled up in bed together. She also took a few snapshots.

The scene reminded her of a time not that many years ago when she would encounter a similar situation when she checked in on Buffy early in the morning. Back then she had thought her life chaotic and out of control. Funny how the last few years had put her time with Hank back in perspective. Sure, he had a full-time job, two rambunctious children, and an adulterous husband, but at least she didn't have demon destruction fund built into her monthly budget.

Joyce looked at Xander and Dawn and smiled. Dawn wasn't going to ever have a little brother or sister to dote on, but the sight did give Ms. Summers a couple of what if's to ponder.

"He's adorable, isn't he?"

Joyce was surprised to see Dawn awake and smiling back at her. "Yes, Dawnie," Joyce confirmed. "He's quite a little cutie."

Dawn grinned from where she lay. "He wandered in my room last night half-asleep and wanting to read a story. The kid's got the weirdest sleeping pattern I've ever seen."

"And he seems to like to cuddle," Joyce pointed out with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yeah. He really likes me," Dawn agreed.

"Well, Xander liked you when he was nineteen, so it makes sense that he still would."

Dawn's grin turned mischievous. "Do you think he'll still want to cuddle when he gets older?"

"Dawn Eleanor Summers!" Joyce admonished while trying to hold back a grin. Honestly, sometimes she wondered what she had done to make her older daughter so shy about mentioning any type of innuendo and her younger daughter so blatantly crass. If she didn't remember her own teen years, Joyce would wonder where Dawn got her at times audacious nature.

"There will be no cuddling with Xander in your bedroom once he's returned to his rightful age."

Dawn's grin did not diminish in the slightest. "What about outside of my bedroom, Mom?"

Joyce's eyes filled with mirth. "That can be discussed on a situational basis."

Only the sleeping boy currently snuggled beside her contained Dawn's squeal of delight at the thought of future Mom-sanctioned Xander snuggles.

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_L.A. In the early hours of the morning. . ._

The City of Angels has more than its fair share of stretch limos. With so many high profile celebrities and executives to be chauffeured from place to place, the sight of a black limo with heavily tinted windows gliding through the streets did not turn many heads. There was always a party to be had, even at four in the morning.

The limo pulled onto a side street before coming to a quiet halt. The chauffeur's suit was looking rumpled as he exited the vehicle.

"Why the hell would someone page me at this time of night?" he mumbled as he patted down his coat pockets.

After a few seconds he located the pocket in question and removed a half empty pack of cigarettes and a Bic. The driver lit up, tucked the pack and lighter away, then checked the pager attached to his belt. Blinking, the man unclipped the pager and checked the message again.

"Ah, damnit!" he swore. "Who the hell wants a limo at eight in the morning?" The man took a deep drag off his cigarette and continued his grumbling. "First I have to put up with a group of lushes masquerading as socialites. Then the little hussies decided to pick up some man candy for tour of the city's nightclubs. You'd think the boss would cut me some slack, but no! Not for Rick! He'll take a last minute job. It's not like he has anything better to do."

Rick's cigarette was quickly shortening as he complained. "By the time I get the limo presentable I might have time for some breakfast and maybe a nap."

His cigarette was finished but it had done little to calm him. He flicked the butt toward the opposite side of the street. "With my luck the early morning job's a washed up has-been checking into rehab. Probably puke in my car. What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"Maybe you were just born lucky."

Before the limo driver could turn he was slammed onto the hood of his car. Rick's night had just gotten a whole lot worse.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rick yelled as he struggled futilely against an inhumanly strong grip.

His attacker met his eyes and smiled at him. "Getting dinner."

The . . .thing's smile had entirely too many large sharp teeth. Any other day, Rick would have described his wail as shrill and quite unmanly. But he instantaneously forgave himself given the fucking _monster_ trying to take a bite out of his neck.

Rick was about halfway through his life flashing before his eyes when he heard footsteps running toward him. He mentally thanked whoever was interrupting for sparing him a repeat viewing of his junior prom night. Sixteen-year-olds and alcohol were not meant to mix.

The monster pressing down on his chest was abruptly lifting and thrown against the side of the nearest building. Rick could only blink and dazedly watch as a man wearing way too many layers for eight degree weather proceeded to slam his attacker's back into the wall and hold him at eye level. The position put the monster's feet a good inch above the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting a moment?" the mysterious leather coat clad man asked without a trace of regret.

If not for the terror, Rick might have protested the overdressed man's comment. As it was, he just laid against the hood and shook. He'd be insulted later. The monster hissed at him through his fangs. "What's it your business for? He's just a limo driver. So what if I take a little nibble?" Obviously his rescuer's scowl was enough to tell the monster that he wasn't winning this argument. "Come on, man! I'm not causing any trouble. I'm just trying to eat! Don't you have more important things to do?"

His rescuer lowered the monster back to the sidewalk and Rick started to get a little worried. "Yeah, maybe I do," he admitted. "But I'm here right now."

Before Rick even noticed the man move, there was a . . .wooden stake impaling the monster. Then the side street's population decreased by one when the monster crumbled to dust. Who the hell carries around wooden stakes? Did he really just see his attacker turn to dust or had those socialites slipped something into his Red Bull earlier?

"Hey, are you all right?"

Rick focused his attention away from his internal panic attack and realized that the mysterious good Samaritan was asking him a question. He also realized that he was still sprawled against the limo's hood. Rick pulled himself back into an upright position.

"Uh, yeah. I'm good," he answered while straightening his suit self-consciously. His rescuer's expression didn't shift much, but he could tell that the man didn't believe him. For some reason this made Rick angry. "Well, I'm not about to break into spontaneous song or anything, but I'm good considering the fact that a monster tried to make me dinner a minute and a half ago." Rick took a deep breathe and shuddered just a bit at that thought. He looked back at the man in the leather coat who was at this point was looking uncomfortable. "Thanks for the save, by the way. I wasn't ready for the afterlife just yet."

If anything, Rick's gratitude made the man look even more uncomfortable. The man could sling monsters around like rag dolls, but it was obvious he wasn't a people person.

From his position near the building that he had staked the attacking vampire against, Angel watched as the recently rescued man began to smirk. "You're welcome," he muttered gruffly. He shifted a little.

The limo driver's smirk widened a little, but the man looked amused rather than malicious. "Do you need me to turn around so you can leave without me seeing, or maybe turn on the headlights to better accentuate your billowing coat as you go off into the early morning?"

Angel groaned and shook his head. With one last look at the limo driver, he turned and skulked back toward the main street. Before the mysterious man disappeared around the corner, Rick heard him grumble, "I'm surrounded by smart asses. Someone up there hates me."

Rick knew that the giggle he restrained at the uttered comment was more than a little hysterical. This night called for a big breakfast and a lot of repression. Working nights in L.A. exposed a person to all kind of weird shit, but this. . .well this wasn't making it into the nightly log. No, he was going to finish his shift, go home, and try his best to put the thought of monsters as far out of his head as possible.

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When Angel got back to the car, Cordelia was waiting in the front seat. "What took you so long?"

Angel sighed. "Well I was on my way and just happened to pass an all night leather store. I've been needing a new pair of leather pants."

"That _so _not funny!" Cordelia scowled at her boss. "Did you rescue the Rent-a-Suit or what? I don't just get these visions for shits and giggles you know."

"Yeah, he's nice and safe. He can provide overpriced cab service for years to come." Angel became contemplative. "What I don't get is why the guy rated a vision from the Powers That Be. It's not like the vamp that attacked him was bent on world domination or he was guarding some ancient mystical artifact. All I did was stop a vamp from making an unlucky guy his dinner. They don't usually give us a heads up on something so trivial."

"Not everything has to be about saving the world, Angel," Cordelia answered quietly. "Keeping that guy from dying may not seem like a big deal to you. But because of you, that guy gets to see another sunrise. Believe me, that's a huge deal for anyone."

"He didn't act like it was such a dramatic experience," Angel grumbled. Cordelia shot the vampire a glare that told him she was not impressed with his whining. "And he made fun of my coat."

"But not your hair," Cordelia rebuked. "Obviously your rescue was a life altering experience for him."

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_Author's Note: Next chapter Anya and Willow will make their appearance, as well as other things!_


	13. Chapter 12: Breakfast and Arrivals

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: For Teenagers and above. Other than a little language, it's not much worse than the show.

A/N: Look, another chapter. At this rate, I'll finish this story about the time I turn 40. I'm down to one job now, so I might have some time to update. I actually have a good chunk of this written out on paper and just have to find time to type it. Wish me luck.

Warnings: Willow/Tara interaction (not explicit) will happen in this story. I don't really think I should have to put a warning on this because they are canon and hopefully you have watched the show at some point, but I figured I should throw it out there just to cover all my bases.

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"Good morning."

Jude nearly jumped out of her skin at the soft greeting. She hadn't meant to fall asleep here, and certainly had not intended to spend the night. Jude's goal the previous evening had been simple: Drop by, check on the kid and the vampire, then scuttle home and sleep for another two days. The less time spent around others, the fewer questions asked.

So when Jude had woken up on the Summers' household's couch and realized what had happened, he knew she needed to get a move on or have to endure fussing over her condition. And she'd almost made it out of the house without anyone stopping her.

Jude silently cursed her luck. Of course someone chose now to come into the living room. The young woman plastered on a fake smile and forced herself to calmly face the lady of the house instead of bolting out the front door.

Joyce Summers gave the girl a small grin once Jude met her eyes. "Did you really think you could leave that easily?"

Jude ducked her head in embarrassment. "Yeah, I kind of did. I'm big with the fading into the background after my work is done."

Joyce chuckled. "Well, you'll find that I always make sure that guests are properly fed before being released back into the world, especially if they've helped one of my daughters' friends."

"I appreciate the offer, but I need to get home," Jude said trying to appease the woman's sense of duty.

"It's not an offer," Joyce interrupted. She pointed to her left. "The kitchen is through there."

Jude met Mrs. Summers' eyes in a bid for reprieve. The girl tried a stubborn glare. A raised eyebrow was the only reaction.

Jude's desperation increased, so she brought out the Williams' family Puppy Dog Eyes (patent pending). There was not a blip on Joyce Summers' sympathy radar. Jude failed to realize that when combined with her rumpled clothes, mussed hair, and the fading marks from the pillow she'd slept on, the pleading look only reinforced Joyce's determination that the girl needed a good meal at the least so she could make it home without passing out.

When the healer saw the older woman holding back laughter, and Jude realized she was pouting she knew her fight for freedom was a lost cause. "Fine," she grumbled.

With a long suffering sigh, Jude ducked under the older woman's arm (it was holding the door to prevent escape) and headed into the kitchen. Joyce followed the girl with a rueful grin.

Once Jude entered the kitchen and saw the pancakes she quickly lost the disgruntled expression. When she noticed the pancakes were chocolate chip, Jude smiled shyly at Mrs. Summers and quietly mumbled thanks in appreciation.

Joyce wanted to take the opportunity to learn a little bit more about her unknown houseguest, but the others in the household chose that moment to enter en masse. Tara called a greeting before automatically grabbing a plate of sausage and placing it on the table. The witch settled into a chair beside Jude. Dawn stampeded down the stairs and almost collided with the table before coming to a halt. Xander cheered the youngest Summers on from his piggyback position. Dawn dropped her passenger into the chair opposite of Tara before plopping down into her usual spot. Spike entered cautiously a few seconds after the pair. After a quick check to see the kitchen windows covered, he grabbed a bowl of scrambled eggs from the kitchen island and settled at one end of the table.

"Wow, Mom," Dawn commented. "You've been busy since you got home." She speared a small stack of pancakes with her fork and dropped them onto her plate. Before Joyce could say anything about the need to save some food for the rest of them, Dawn transferred two of her pancakes to Xander's plate. "Here you go, short stuff. You gotta try these."

Dawn gestured to her now smiling mother with her fork. "That's my mom,  
Xan. She's one of the coolest moms I know and her chocolate chip pancakes rock."

Xander looked at Joyce and beamed. "Hi, Dawnie's mom! Thanks for breakfast."

"You're welcome, honey," Joyce answered. "I hope you like it." Everyone else at the table echoed their thanks to the Summers clan's matriarch.

There wasn't much talking for several minutes. Everybody at the table was too busy eating for idle chatter. Even Xander was mostly silent as he devoured his pancakes. Tara somehow managed to get him to eat a piece of sausage and a tiny scoop of eggs along with all that sugar while simultaneously tucking into her own meal. The Wiccan hoped the protein would offset the oncoming sugar rush. Of course, then she remembers their trip to Wal-Mart and felt an oncoming trickle of dread.

Joyce noticed the look of encroaching panic on the younger woman's face and reached over to squeeze Tara's shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. We'll take him to the park and make Dawn run all the excess energy out of him."

Xander's eyes shot up from where they had been concentrating on his breakfast. "Park?" he questioned with a growing grin. "We're going to the park?"

"Not if you don't finish your eggs we aren't," Tara warned.

The boy obviously took Tara's warning seriously. In two bites, the eggs vanished from his plate. The pancakes were gone four bites later and his fork was clattering on his plate where he dropped it in triumph. Xander then turned imploring eyes onto Dawnie as if his stare could make her eat faster. Dawn for her part made a big show of delicately cutting off precise squares of pancake and slowly chewing at least forty times before swallowing. Between each bite, Dawn would place her fork back on the table, pick up her napkin, and dab at the imaginary crumbs on her lips and chin.

Spike being evil, could appreciate the blatant torture technique. Poor Xander looked ready to jump out of his chair and run around shrieking in frustration. Spike could see him biting his lip to prevent any sound from escaping as he watched his Shiny Girl eat with painstaking slowness.

"Why Dawn, I'm so pleased to see you eating like a young lady," Joyce commented. "Maybe I should find you something less messy to do here in the house while Xander and I go to the park. I've got the cross-stitch your Aunt Barbara sent you for Christmas in the attic."

The youngest of the Summers' clan immediately started shoveling pancakes into her mouth like a madwoman. "The park's good," Dawn mumbled around a mouth full of food.

Joyce was still fighting with herself to keep her expression stoic when the doorbell rang. Tara's head immediately shot up as Joyce left the table to answer the door. "Willow," she whispered and stood up to follow the older woman.

Everyone remaining at the table exchanged a look. As one, Xander, Dawn, and Spike headed for the living room to greet the new arrivals. Jude suddenly found herself by herself at the breakfast table. She sat there for a few seconds unsure what to do. Then the girl shrugged and speared another piece of sausage. "More food for me," she muttered.

In the living room, Joyce barely had a chance to open the door before Willow began to babble.

"Where is he?" she asked frantically. "It took us a while to get the message from Tara, but ever since we heard I've been trying to brainstorm possible spells that might be responsible for turning Xander into a little kid. Or demon toxins, it could have been toxins. They said he got hurt by a demon before Spike found him. . . ."

As Tara came into the room behind Ms. Summers, she could hear her girlfriend rattling off information to Joyce, who looked vaguely overwhelmed, but wasn't paying any attention to either of those things. The world had gone crazy the last couple of days. But Willow was home, so everything was a little bit better.

". . . I crossed referenced a few of my older demonic inventories on the way here and depending on the star alignments at the time of his transformation and the exact age he regressed to. . ."

That was her Willow. Babble flowing in a continuous stream of consciousness from her lips without a pause for any type of feedback. But Tara was not concentrating on Willow's words.

". . . But if someone cast a spell, then the ramifications would be skewed in a completely different matter. So, we'll have to do some diagnostic spell work to narrow down. . ."

Just her lips.

"With just a couple of simple incantations we should be able to –" Willow's words were halted when Tara pulled the redhead close and planted a kiss square on her slightly parted lips.

Willow for her part only stiffened for a moment before melting into the searing kiss. The two forgot about everything except each other.

Xander watched the lip lock for a few seconds from his place between Spike and Dawn. "Is that Willow?" he asked.

Spike smirked. "Yep. And it looks like our good witch has figured out a way to stop that inane chatter."

"Tara's kissing her," Xander observed.

Spike turned slightly to look down at the little boy. "That's because Glinda loves her, little bit."

"Oh." Xander paused for a moment, studying the pair. "Okay."

Dawn grinned. "I don't think that Tara's gonna let Willow up for air any time soon."

"That's because Tara _really_ loves her," Xander told Dawn with utmost sincerity.

Close to a minute later, Willow and Tara's reunion smooch finally ended and after the goofy smile faded from Willow's face she spotted the tiny but familiar brunette clutching at Spike's hand.

"Oh, Goddess," she breathed. "It's really him." Willow moved until she was standing in front of Xander and crouched down to his level. "You're really you. You look just like I remember."

Xander kept an ironclad grip on Spike's fingers and moved closer to the vampire's side. Willow gave the nervous boy a reassuring grin. "Do you know who I am, sweetie?" she asked.

From his position at Spike's side, the little boy nodded. "You're Willow," he answered softly. Xander's lips turned down in a tiny frown of confusion. "But you look different all over."

Willow laughed. "That's just because I grew up. I'm an adult now with . . . adult parts." Willow stood up and moved back to her girlfriend's side. "Everyone looks different when they get older."

Spike knew that the witch meant those words to be reassuring, but he could tell from the dubious look on Xander's face that the boy wasn't sure he believed her. Spike for his part wondered what the kid saw when looking at his best friend that was so different. When he looked over at Tara, he could tell that the same thought was going through her mind as well.

Anything further that Xander might have said was stopped as Joyce stepped further in the living room with Anya in tow. Anya may have been a demon for eleven hundred years, but she knew it was rude to enter a house without greeting the head of that household first. And everyone thought she was rude and tactless.

Xander spotted the new person with Joyce and his eyes widened. "Spike," he asked softly. "Who's that girl?"

"That," Spike informed the de-aged Scooby, "is the grown-up you's girlfriend."

Xander gaped at Spike in shock. "That's –" He stares at Anya for several long seconds, then turns back to his friend. "She's my girlfriend!" he exclaimed.

Everyone in the room turned to the boy at his shout. Anya's eyes zeroed in on the little guy and Xander's cheeks heated up in embarrassment from all the attention. He didn't hide behind Spike's legs, but he did pull the vampire's arm more fully in front of him.

Anya walked over to Xander and Spike and copied Willow's crouched position from earlier. "Yes, I'm your girlfriend, Anya Jenkins." She offered her hand and after a brief pause Xander clasped it with the hand not still clamped around Spike's.

The two studied each other for several long seconds with remarkably similar expressions. It was Anya who broke the silence first. "You are still very attractive, Xander, even miniature sized," she told the boy with a bright smile and gave him a quick peck on the lips. She turned to Tara "You've taken hundreds of photos, I hope?" The Wiccan nodded in silence. "Good. I will pay you for copies."

Anya swiveled back to face Xander and gave his cheek a gentle pinch before getting back to her feet. "I smell breakfast," she announced. "First we eat; then we research." Without another word, Anya headed for the kitchen.

Spike looks down at the boy that has attached himself to his leg in amusement. Xander is blushing to the tips of his ears and doing his best to hide his face in Spike's side.

"Embarrassed, pet?" he asks with a grin.

After a minute Xander pulls himself away from Spike's side and tilts his face up toward the vampire. "She's really pretty," Xander whispers and immediately blushes bright red again.

Spike chuckles slightly, biting his lip to keep the full blown laughter at bay. He doesn't want to hurt the boy's feelings. "How about after we eat, you ask your girl to play with you until time to go to the park? Have yourself a proper little date?"

Xander smiled. "That's a good idea. Do you think she likes Legos?"

"Who in their right mind doesn't like Legos?" Spike answered.

Xander grinned at the reassurance, then paused in thought. "Can I ask Dawnie to play to or would that make Anya jealous?"

Spike responded to Dawn's snort of laughter from beside him with a relatively gentle elbow to the ribs. "I don't think that would be a problem, little bit," he answered with a remarkably straight face. "But what say I bring the Nibblet and we make it a double date?"

Xander took a moment to think the proposition over. "All right," Xander agreed. "But remember Spike: Anya's mine."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Next: A change of scenery for a while before getting back to Xander hijinks in the park._


	14. Chapter 13: vs The State of California

Title: Outside Humanity

Author: Drake Roberts

Rating: Teen. Basically, if you can watch the show, I don't think you'll have any problem with this story. The F-word is bantered around occasionally, but nothing too bad.

A/N: I've probably got about three chapters worth of this story written out already. So, if I have time to sit at my computer and type . . . well, I'll try my best not to drop off the face of the Earth between updates. Also, any mistakes made in this work are my own. I don't use a beta reader, mostly because I never know how long it will be between updates. Please note, there's a little more cursing in this chapter for reasons that will become clear once you start reading. Let me know if I should up the rating.

Disclaimer: I do not own or even pretend to own the television show _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. I am merely borrowing the characters for entertainment purposes. I promise to return the characters more or less in one piece when I'm finished with them.

Interlude: Faith Lehane versus the State of California

Faith Lehane always said what was on her mind. In elementary school one of her teacher had told her if she didn't have anything nice to say, don't say anything all. Personally Faith considered that complete bullshit. The first amendment entitled her to free speech. If someone needed to be made aware of how the world worked, then Faith would share her opinion. Most of the time, anyone within earshot of the Boston beauty didn't find her opinion very nice.

That being said, Faith didn't rattle off every thought that popped into her head. The bubbly airhead was more B's bag. Faith didn't do bubbly and she didn't babble. But a time rarely presented itself where Faih found herself at a loss for words. In fact through the course of the nineteen years of her life Faith can only recall being rendered speechless a handful of times.

Standing demurely in a Los Angeles County Judicial Center court room, Faith lost the ability to speak for a full seven seconds. To a Slayer, that might as well have been a lifetime. When the brunette finally did react, it was . . . explosive.

"What she hell do you mean acquitted?" Faith shrieked.

The judge, a reed thin middle aged woman, scowled down at the teenaged defendant seated before her. The severe woman may have been pretty at one time, but years of pursed lipped expressions had given her a perpetually pinched looking profile. "Watch your language in my courtroom, young lady, or I'll be forced to hold you in contempt."

"You're the one throwing around the crazy words, lady," Faith retorted. "I confessed to killing two people in Sunnydale."

"Two people that the city of Sunnydale records have no record of; they don't even have birth records for them."

The dark haired Slayer silently conceded that point. It's not like Mayor Wilkins would have left any kind of paper trail implicating her, especially for the man that she killed for him. Faith had just failed to realize that the scope of his influence in the town stretched to include completely obliterating a person's records from the world. That fact only deterred her for a second.

"Well, once I stepped off the bus here in LA, I put the beat down on the first pervy biker that decided I would make a good piece of ass," Faith rallied.

From his position beside her, the Faith's public defender desperately tried to get his client to just stop talking. The poor overworked man watched the woman with a half incredulous, half terrified expression. They had just been handed a verdict of not guilty. Did his client _want_ to go to jail?

The judge was now starting to look put out. She gestured toward the evidence table. "Exhibit F contains a signed affidavit from your alleged victim stating you administered that "beat down" as you put it in an act of self defense."

"I broke his pelvis and both of his arms!" Faith exclaimed.

"This man had also served time for aggravated assault on two separate occasions," the judge pointed out. "And he outweighed you by a hundred pounds."

Faith gritted her teeth. "But what about. . . ."

"Miss Lehane," the judge interrupted. "I believe this is the first time I have had a defendant argue _against_ an acquittal." The condescending tones practically dripped from the judge's lips. "Undoubtedly, your lawyer is about to have a stroke." The judge folded her hands in her lap. "I have made my decision. You are not going to jail today."

The judge's expression softened ever so slightly, then she pinned Faith with a stare so intense the young woman was rooted to her chair. "You have been given an invaluable opportunity: a second chance to do things differently. My advice to you, Miss Lehane, is to stop looking for ways to punish yourself for the past, leave my courtroom, and start showing the world you can do better. Case closed."

The pounding of the woman's gavel cracked like a gunshot to Faith's ears. Various members of the press, onlookers, and lawyers started to gather their possessions and filtered from the courtroom. Faith made no move to get up for several moments. Her public defender finally clasped her arm, pulled her to her feet and guided her out of the room and into the early morning air. The Slayer didn't react until she spotted the limousine parked at the curb.

"Hey, what gives?" she asked. "I wasn't planning on leaving the courthouse in style. More like in leg irons."

Her lawyer smiled at her reassuringly. "My law firm wishes to express their congratulations on your acquittal."

Faith's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I thought you worked for the city as a court assigned public defender."

The lawyer's smile did not diminish a bit. It only served to make the man look even less genuine. "I don't work for the city. My firm takes a certain number of pro bono cases every year to help the city's public defenders with client overload. Your case happened to be one of them. The higher ups at my firm would like to say a quick hello before you get on with your second lease on life."

Faith studied the man and the limousine in front of her. Did she really have much of a choice? The dark haired Slayer finally gave in with a shrug. "Aw, why the hell not? Let's go." Faith stepped into the limousine with barely a glimpse at the man holding the door. "Hope this bad boy's got a wet bar."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Years of disdain for the snobby high society types she occasionally glimpsed in downtown Boston made her reluctant to admit it, but Faith really enjoyed being driven around in a limo. She could tell just by the feel that the seats were real leather, the sunroof gave her a wonderful view of the cloudless sky, and the air conditioning kept the car at just the right temperature. Plus, there were all kinds of buttons to push.

Faith rolled the window separating her from the driver up and down for the fifth time and grinned as the man's shoulders tensed. She had to hand it to the guy; he hadn't said a word in the last ten minutes while she fiddled with every button, toggle, and switch that she could reach, and a few in the front that she shouldn't have been able to get to. He had endured her near constant requests for a radio station change. The man hadn't made a peep when Faith rolled down the window and propped her feet up on the door like it was an ottoman. The tensing of his shoulders was the first indicator of any type of discomfort or annoyance. Faith couldn't blame him on that count; the squeak the partition window made as it rolled up could peel paint.

Her options now nearly exhausted, Faith decided to check the mini-fridge. What kind of booze would a swank ride like this stock? Kristal? Grey Goose? Or maybe just some good old JD? With a little chuckle and a quick bit of contortion so her feet could stay hanging out the window, Faith pulled open the mini-fridge door. Then she gaped in shock.

"Hey, jeeves? Is there a reason the mini-fridge has got three thongs, a lacy black bra, and a note saying 'Next time, we'll tip you' in it?"

The abrupt and quite inventive flow of cursing from the limo driver impressed Faith. Obviously, these were not from a bimbo he'd banged in the back the night before. Or if it was, the night hadn't ended well.

The man's tirade wore down and he seemed to realize he'd had an audience. Hazel eyes met Faith's through the rear view mirror. "Sorry about that, ma'am," he apologized with a slight blush.

Faith grinned. "Don't worry about it," she told him. "Sometimes the only thing you can do is cuss the world." Normally, Faith would have let the conversation drop, but what the hell, she was curious. "Bad night?" she asked.

Having to watch the road, the man's head remained facing forward, but Faith caught a glimpse of the rueful grin that appeared. "You could say that. I had to drive around a trio of LA socialites until 3 am. I'm guessing the underwear was their idea of a thank you." He snorted. "As if I would touch those things without a hazmat suit. I'm going to have to have the limo fumigated."

The man sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Then just when I'm ready for a break, this . . . thing tried to make me its late night snack."

"Thing?" Faith queried cautiously.

Faith watched through the rearview mirror as the chauffeur's cheeks reddened. "Wrinkly-faced freak of nature tried to chomp on my neck for dinner." The man sighed. "I'm sure it was just the sleep deprivation getting to me. Just forget I said anything."

Faith studied the man in surprise. Taking the young woman's silence as scorn, the limo driver started to roll up the divider window. "I think I'll just keep my crazy thoughts to myself."

"Funny thing about freaks of nature," Faith piped up from the back seat. The window stopped its ascent. "They're all strength and teeth, but a little piece of wood will scare them off real quick."

The limo drive blinked. Was he even crazier than usual or did this woman actually believe him? Maybe his morning was looking up for a change. "You tangle with monsters on the dark streets of L.A. often, miss?"

Faith chuckled. "It's Faith, not miss."

"I stand corrected. But you still didn't answer my question. I took the risk of sounding loony. You scared to reciprocate?" the man taunted teasingly.

There was no reason for the brunette to feel obligated to answer this guy. It wasn't any of his business. But Faith found herself answering anyway. "Monster-hunting used to be a hobby of mine, back in Boston. I haven't really tried it here yet. I'm new to the L.A. scene."

The grin that came to the driver's face as he turned at the stoplight was quite endearing. "Well, please let me be the first to welcome you to the City of Angels. I'm Rick"

Rick finished his turn and thrust the arm not holding the wheel back toward her. Faith smirked and grasped Rick's hand in a firm handshake. "Thanks for the welcome."

Rick took his hand back and gave it a little shake. "That's quite a grip you got there, Faith."

Faith's smirk softened into a small grin. "What's the matter? You intimidated?"

"On the contrary," Rick retorted. "I'm trying to figure out a way to weasel your phone number out of you for the next time I need a pickle jar opened. I swear those things are the devil."

That remark startled an honest to goodness laugh out of the dark haired Slayer. "You're all right, Ricky." Faith studied the man's smiling face in the mirror for several seconds. The judge this morning was a sanctimonious prude, but maybe she had a point about second chances. "If I actually had a number I'd give it to you." She gave Rick a wistful smile. "I guess it isn't in the cards."

The limo pulled up to the curve and came to a halt. Faith slid her feet back into her heels. "It's been real, Rick."

"Faith, wait," Rick turned around in his seat until he was facing the young woman. He held out a card. "Here, take this."

At the young woman's dubious look, Rick hurried to explain. "I swear I'm not just trying to be sleazy. You're new here. I doubt you know that many people. And everyone needs a friend."

"A friend?" Faith asked, still a little doubtful.

"Yeah, a friend. You know, in case you need a ride somewhere sometime, or something."

Faith hesitated a moment longer, then took the card gently. "I think a friend might be a good thing," she admitted. "But I gotta tell ya. I don't usually do the whole limo cruising thing."

Rick gave her a disarming grin. Head on the man's smile was a sight to behold. "This limo's not the only car I own." His expression sobered slightly. "Seriously. I'm sure you're more than capable of taking care of yourself. But something tells me you could use a friend. And I think you'd be a good friend to have. I bet you make life interesting."

"You need someone to make life interesting?"

"Hey, I might scream like a woman in the face of monsters, but I bet you'd be great to talk about the day with over a cup of coffee."

Faith smiled without a trace of her usual cynicism. "If I need some conversation, you'll be the first I let know."

"That's all I can hope for?" Rick told her. "Now let's get you on your way."

Rick got out of the limo and walked around to open her door. Faith knew she probably looked like a total spaz with a grin that wouldn't leave her face. A nice conversation with a guy who didn't seem to want her for a quick lay or want to use her for hired muscle. It wasn't something Faith thought she wanted. Now, the normality of it all was . . . nice. Maybe she _could_ take advantage of this so-called second chance.

Rick opened her door with a flourish. "Milady, your appointment awaits. Enjoy your morning."

He gave the young woman a jaunty wave before getting back behind the wheel and pulling out into the morning commute. Faith watched the limo until it turned the corner, then turned to face her destination.

The slayer's expression soured in an instant. "I should have known my day couldn't stay good forever," she muttered

In front of Faith were the offices of Wolfram and Hart. Faith glanced down at the card in her hand for a moment with a hint of her former grin. She slipped the card into the front of her bra, straightened her shoulders and marched up the stone steps. "Let's see what kind of shit these assholes are slinging."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Next time: We returned to Sunnydale for a day in the park. Don't worry; we'll get back to Faith eventually._


	15. Chapter 14: Going to the Park

Title: Outside Humanity

Rating: Teen + (I like to cuss and tear stuff to pieces)

Warnings: Violence, language, some disturbing imagery.

_Note: We're getting closer to the dodgier parts, people. If a fight scene or people in peril squicks you, be aware that it's coming. I really don't think you'll have any problems though if you watched the show._

A/N: Yes, I know I take forever to update. But while my Fall Break is almost over it has been a productive one (fanfic-wise, any way). I'm giving you this chapter and am over halfway finished typing the next chapter! And for any interested I am almost completely done with the next chapter of _Reflections of You _as well. So, please enjoy and I'll try to type as fast as possible for the next chapter. And thanks for all the reviews. I really appreciate and treasure them even though I don't always have the time to reply to all of them.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Most people commented on the number of graveyards when they first moved into town, at least until the Sunnydale Blindness began to take over. However, the first thing Dawn noticed when her family had moved to Sunnydale four years ago was the number of parks. It seemed that there was a set of swings, a see-saw, and a jungle gym every block and a half. When the Summers' family had moved to town, Dawn had been growing out of her playing in the park phase, but the sheer magnitude of these grass-covered oases had drawn her in like a moth to a flame.

Looking back, this was probably the plan when the mayor of Sunnydale designed the city's layout. Once Dawn had learned about the supernatural baddies that populated her quaint new home, she had looked at the parks in a different light. What could be more vulnerable than a little kid playing by themselves in a park? Despite these thoughts about the parks' real purpose, she still had a favorite park about four blocks from her house.

Her favorite park had several sets of swings, a merry-go-round, see-saws, and even a large sandbox. Often on a Saturday afternoon, Dawn and her mother would walk to this park. Years ago, she would invite a few friends to play. More recently, she would bring a book or her journal and write or read outdoors. After all, reading in the park was one of her mother's favorite pastimes.

Whether playing or reading, Dawn's favorite spot was the domed jungle gym. She might be a little old for playgrounds at this point, but the dome sat in the shade of a large tree and from the top of it you got a view of the entire neighborhood.

When Xander said he wanted to go out and play, this was the first place that came to mind for Dawn. After hearing about the park, Dawn's goal became keeping the rambunctious six-year-old in the house long enough to get him dressed and slathered with sunscreen. The little boy had been disappointed when he realized that Spike would not be joining them, but quickly jumped on his new mission of figuring out something to bring back to his sunlight-challenged friend.

Tara used this distraction to pack a lunch for everyone who would eventually make it to the park.

"Looks like you might actually get to sleep some during the day today," Tara commented with a grin.

Spike snorted. "Not likely. Rupes wants me to look for any similar accounts to Xan's in the Slovnakan Transmogrification Chronicles. Doubt I'll find much; the Slovnaks aren't exactly what you'd call creative."

Tara dropped some sliced strawberries into a Tupperware container. "At times, I almost forget that there's something to fix," Tara admitted quietly. "That's horrible of me."

"No it isn't, ducks," Spike argued. "Your focus is just different. You've been taking care of the ankle biter since all this started. The watcher and now your girl and the whelp's girl get to solve the mystery. You get to make sure the boy has a fun time of his second childhood."

Tara giggled as she started dropping sandwiches into plastic baggies. "I never thought of Xander as a mature adult until I met him as a little kid." Tara grinned. "Sometimes he still acts so much like he did when he was still nineteen, but then at other times . . ."

Tara trailed off as Xander entered the kitchen followed closely by Willow. The redhead stopped in front of her girlfriend, giving Tara a smile and a peck on the lips. Xander walked around behind Tara until she was between him and his oldest friend. He grabbed a handful of Tara's skirt in his hand.

Tara frowned. This certainly wasn't expected behavior. Tara dropped a hand onto Xander's shoulder, automatically hugging the boy to her. "What happened?" she asked Willow.

"Nothing," Willow answered defensively. Tara gave her girlfriend a very mild look. Willow's expression fell.

"I don't know," the redhead admitted. "I sat by him to play Legos and he moved to the other side of the table. I asked him about what he had done since he turned into a six-year-old and he didn't say anything, just looked at me funny."

Tara and Spike both turned to look at said six-year-old wondering about his side of the story. Xander tugged a section of Tara's skirt in front of his body at the scrutiny and looked like he wanted nothing more than to hide behind the woman.

Willow bit her lip. "I think I'm making him nervous."

Spike shot Willow an irritated look. "You think?"

Xander for his part was clinging to Tara while stealing occasional gazes at Willow. He didn't look frightened, per say, but his expression was definitely wary.

Spike lifted an eyebrow in surprise and looked to Tara. _"What do you make of that?" _he seemed to say.

The blonde Wiccan shrugged. _"Your guess is as good as mine." _she answered silently. She was just as in the dark about the boy's reserved manner as everyone else. Even as an adult Xander at times jumped from point A to point F with no warning.

Spike nodded in agreement. The vampire's gaze moved back to the de-aged Sunnydalian. "How's about we go watch some SpongeBob while Glinda finishes getting ready?" he asked the boy.

Xander contemplated the notion for a split second before smiling brightly. "Okay, Spike." The boy dropped Tara's skirt and held his hand out to the vampire.

Said vampire smirked. He crossed in front of Tara, snagged Xander around the waist and slung the boy over his shoulder in a fireman carry.

"Spike!" the boy shrieked. Spike decided he liked the sound and tickled Xander's side to hear it again.

"Ta, ducks," he called over his shoulder as he skirted the patches of sunlight on the way to the much darker living room.

"If you don't figure out what's up, I'll try at the park," Tara called after him.

With Xander out of the room, Tara focused back on her girlfriend. Willow was looking at her like she'd grown a second head. "What?" she asked.

"Since when do you and Spike do the silent communication thingie?" Willow asked.

Tara blinked. "We do?" She quickly replayed the last minute in her head. "I guess we started sometime in the last couple of days while watching Dawn and Xander."

Willow wrinkled her nose. "It's wiggy. I'll be happy when Xander is nice and Xander-shaped again."

"He's still Xander," Tara argued. "He's just six at the moment. It's not that different."

"Not that different!" Willow practically squeaked. "He's best buddies with Spike. Spike! A couple of days ago they couldn't be in the same room together without threatening to kill each other."

Tara wasn't sure she agreed with that one exactly, but let Willow continue uninterrupted. She knew that sometimes her girl just had to rant for a while to get it out of her system.

"And he's following Dawnie around like some kind of lovesick puppy and looking at Anya likes she is the most beautiful woman he's ever seen."

"And he's barely giving you the time of day," Tara interjected.

Willow's mouth shut with an audible click of her teeth. After a few moments, Willow's expression turned sheepish. "I'm being petty, aren't I?"

Tara smiled. "Maybe just a little." Tara saw her girlfriend's lips turn down, and gave in to the impulse to hug the petite woman. "Oh, sweetie. You've got to remember, out of everybody, you're the only person he has any memories of at the moment."

"But you said you explained to him that he's under a spell."

"We did," Tara agreed. "But he's six. What six-year-olds that you know would be able to wrap their head around the concept of de-aging? Other than different cartoons on the TV, you're the first real evidence he's had that things are different."

That wasn't completely true, what with Cordelia's time at the house, but Tara was concentrating on reassuring Willow at the moment. She could work on getting more detailed information from Xander about his reactions later.

Apparently Willow was persuaded by Tara's logic because after a few moments she visibly relaxed. "You have a point," she conceded. "I love Xander, but he's not a thinker. It would be a lot to take in. Maybe he'll get better the more he is around me."

Tara frowned at the first part of that comment, but Willow failed to notice. She pondered the last thought for a few moments before answering. "Maybe you could get Anya to drive you back to our place to unpack from your trip and change? I can talk to Xander while you get ready, help him get over his shyness."

More like figure out what made him get wary around his oldest friend when Cordy had become one of his favorite people only minutes after she stepped foot in the Summers household, but Willow didn't need the details on that. Not unless Tara found out Willow had done something to upset the boy.

Willow beamed. "I love you, baby!"

"Love you too, Willow," Tara answered with a soft smile.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Half an hour later, Willow and Anya were on their way to drop off their luggage and get dressed for the park and Tara, Xander, and Dawn were enjoying the day. Dawn perched at the summit of her beloved domed jungle gym. One ankle was tucked under her knee and the other leg dangled down into the interior of the dome. The young girl had a paperback in one hand and a sandwich in the other. Tara and Xander sat on a blanket under a nearby shade tree. Their picnic was spread out before them. At the moment, the two were sharing a bowl of mixed fruit. Tara had decided to forgo getting out the potato chips when she saw Xander's eyes light up at the sight of strawberries and cantaloupe.

"Eating on the playground is the best thing ever," the little boy declared as he munched on a chunk of cantaloupe.

Tara smiled. "I agree."

"The teachers at school would _never_ let us take our lunches out to the playground. Me and Willow always have to wait 'til after school. Then we sit on the merry-go-round and eat Wills' carrot sticks."

"Sounds like fun," Tara told the boy. "Willow will be here in a while with Anya, so you guys can share some of our fruit then."

Xander sighed and his smile drooped. "Yeah, I guess"

He sounded anything but enthusiastic and Tara's own grin disappeared. Xander had stopped eating and started digging at the dry ground with a stick. "What's wrong?" Tara asked Xander.

Xander shrugged, his gaze still focused on the ground. Tara tried a slightly different tactic. "You know, I don't know what I would do if I saw one of my friends old. I think it would scare me. Did it scare you?"

Xander bit his bottom lip. "It's okay if she scares you, Xander," Tara gently pressed.

"It's not that," Xander finally spoke. "She . . . she doesn't look like my Willow." The boy finally looked back up at Tara. "Are you _sure _she's my Willow?"

If not for the look of serious suspicion on Xander's face as he asked this, Tara would have grinned. "She _is _your Willow, I promise. She just looks different because she's an adult."

"But her colors are different," Xander protested. "CeeCee's colors weren't different."

Thinking of Willow's fiery red locks, Tara thought she might have a clue where Xander's wariness might be coming from. "Her hair's redder now," Tara had gone with Willow when she bought the dye. While naturally a redhead, Willow's hair held a more auburn hue rather than the bright hue it was right now. "But Cordelia still had brown hair, right?"

Xander shook his head. "CeeCee's hair was lighter when she was little like me, but her _colors _haven't changed at all. She's strong and red; she always had been. _My_ Wills is warm and yellow. _Your _Willow is different. I don't know why."

Tara blinked as something clicked in her mind. "What colors do I have, Xan?"

Xander looked back up at Tara, eyes wary. After a few moments, the boy seemed to realize that Tara was asking him seriously and he looked her up and down a couple of times. "You're pink and light blue. You feel fluffy like the towels in Dawnie's bathroom and sometimes when you hug you shine like silver."

"What about Dawnie?" Tara asked. "Can you see her colors from here?"

Xander grinned. "Yeah, she's bright and shiny and green!" he told Tara enthusiastically. He leaned a little closer to the Wiccan. "If you look at Dawnie just right, you can see rainbows."

Tara returned the little boy's grin even as her eyes widened in shock. Xander was seeing auras. "Willow's not as yellow as she used to be is she? She's got paler and darker places."

Xander's own eyes widened. "You can see the colors too? I've never met _anybody_ who saw them too! I told my teacher that I wouldn't eat the school lunch because the lunch lady's colors were scary and she made me go to the office and I had to talk to this other lady about how often I saw things that weren't there."

Tara grabbed Xander and pulled him into her lap. "Well, your teacher was wrong. The colors are there, it's just that only special people can see them. And you're really special. I had to practice a lot before I could see them."

"My mommy told me I was special when I told her about the colors too. But she was laughing, so I don't think she means the same special you do." Xander leaned his head against Tara's chest. "I never told Willow," he whispered. "I was afraid she'd laugh too."

"Anyone who would laugh at you is stupid," Dawn interrupted. She plopped down beside the pair and grabbed a strawberry from the bowl of fruit. "Right, Tara?"

"Absolutely," Tara agreed. She gave Xander a hug. "My mother could see the colors too and she even taught me how to read them."

Xander moved his head from Tara's shoulder and looked up at the young woman. "You can read the colors? Like a book? Can you teach me?"

Tara chuckled. "Not exactly like a book, but yes, I would be happy to teach you." Tara looked over at Dawn and smiled. "But right now I think that Dawn needs some company on the swings."

Xander didn't need any further urging. "Okay." He gave Tara a quick peck on the cheek before bounding away, Dawn close at his heels.

Tara put a hand to her cheek in surprise, and then she smiled. She was still smiling as she packed up their picnic and moved to join the kids.

_Meanwhile at the Summers Household. . . . _

Joyce was just grabbing a paperback and a camera for her trip to the park when the phone rang.

"Where's Willow?" the voice on the other end asks frantically before Joyce can even say hello. "I can't get her at her dorm."

It only took her a split-second to realize the voice on the other end belonged to Cordelia. "Willow should be on her way to the park to meet Tara and the kids," the older woman answered. A sinking feeling started in the pit of her stomach.

"You've got to get to the park, Ms. Summers," Cordelia continued urgently. "Right now."

Joyce blinked in shock. But it only took a second for instinct to kick in. "I'm on my way now," she answered, barely missing a beat. "Can you call Mr. Giles for me?"

"You've got it," Cordelia reassured her. "Just hurry, okay?" The younger woman couldn't keep the worry out of her voice.

Joyce opened up the closet by the door. "Don't worry," she said as she rummaged. "Hurrying won't be a problem," the woman stated grimly. A scarred and pitted wooden baseball bat was pulled from the closet. "I'll call you when I get back."

_Angel Investigations . . . . _

Cordelia ended one phone conversation and almost immediately dialed another. Her conversation with Giles was short, concise, and tense. It basically consisted of her yelling at the Watcher to get to the park as fast as he could because at the moment Buffy's mom was the only back-up available.

She hung up the phone and turned to Angel. He had been hovering anxiously beside her. He didn't have to say a word; the question was in his eyes.

"Joyce and Giles are on their way. From what Ms. S said, Willow should be there soon too."

Cordelia scowled, her worry quickly switching to anger. "Why did the Powers call us back to LA and then send me a vision that happens in Sunnydale?" She bit her lower lip. "Maybe if we were still there, we could stop what I saw from happening!"

Angel placed a comforting hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "Cordy, if we were there, could we really make that much of a difference?"

The aspiring actress sighed. "I'd like to think so, but when I had the vision," she paused. "I got the feeling it was already too late."

_Back at the park . . . . _

Having a competition to see who can swing the highest is practically a playground tradition, but Tara thinks that trash-talking is taking the contest just a little too far.

"You swing slower than my grandmother," Dawn taunted.

"Oh, yeah? Well you swing slower than . . . than," Xander fumbled for words for a moment. "Than an elephant!" he finished triumphantly.

Judging from the delighted cackling coming from the younger Summers sister, Dawn was far from offended by the insult. Dawn grinned at the boy swinging beside her, and then decided to bring their temporary caretaker into the game. "We need a third opinion on this. What do you think, Tara?"

The girl turns to the blonde with a grin on her face. And then Dawn saw the man in the hooded man. "Tara!" she screamed in terror.

Tara is grabbed from behind before she has time to react. One massive arm wrapped around her ribs, trapping her arms to her sides, the other hand clamped a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. Tara had read too many suspense novels not to realize she was getting dosed with chloroform. She tried to hold her breath, but a painful squeeze to her ribs had her reflexively gasping.

Even as her head started to spin, Tara bucked against her assailant's hold. Her attacker chuckled in her ear, deep and slightly rasping. "Give it up, girl. You've already lost."

The last things she heard were Dawn and Xander's voices yelling as they struggled against unknown attackers.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Dawn's first instinct when she saw Tara get grabbed was to help her. Then she remembered who was in the swing next to her. "Xander."

Wide, frightened eyes met hers. "We have to run. Get off the swing."

Dawn jumped from her swing and grabbed the younger boy's hand as he skid his swing to a standstill. By this time, two other men in dark clothing, sunglasses, and hoods had moved to the edge of the sandy area around the swing set. This was not good. Dawn met Xander's eyes again for a split second.

"Run!" she hissed. The two bolted in opposite directions.

Xander ran as fast as his legs could carry him toward the sidewalk. If he could get there, he could make it to one of the nearby houses. Unfortunately, the attacker had size in his favor and quickly caught up to the boy and scooped him into his arms. But Xander had one more piece in his arsenal: teeth.

"Ow!" the man yelled nearly dropping the young boy. "That hurt you little bastard!"

"Put me down!" Xander screamed. He wiggled, trying desperately to slip from the man's grasp. The man struggled to keep a grip on the boy.

Dawn nearly escaped when the man following her lost his footing in the sand. But he grabbed her ankle as she sprinted past, tripping her to the ground. Dawn kicked at his face, but caught his shoulder instead of the head shot she needed. Using his size and weight to his advantage, Dawn's attacker pinned her legs to the ground and reached for her arms.

Dawn Summers is no Slayer. She lacks enhanced strength and reflexes. But that doesn't mean she can't put up a fight. She struck the man in the chin with the heel of her hand as he's reaching for her arms.

Her attacker cursed, but managed to capture one of her wrists. A blow glanced off his temple before he got the chance to grab the other one. His vision goes white for a moment, but he manages to keep his hold firm.

The man holding on to Xander chuckles when he sees this. "Having a little trouble with the spitfire – OW!"

The man staggers when Xander lands a kick to his thigh. The grip loosens and Xander's struggle increase tenfold. Xander's attacker growls in fury and backhands the boy across the face.

Seeing the abuse of her young friend, Dawn is livid. "Leave him alone!" Dawn then does what anyone fighting a superior force would do; she fights dirty. She rakes her hands straight toward her attacker's eyes.

Dawn's assailant has had enough. "Hell with no collateral damage," he mutters. The man pulls out a small club and knocks Dawn on the back of the head.

The girl's world goes suddenly fuzzy and her body goes limp. Xander sees this, screams in terror, and tenses in the other man's hold.

"No!" Xander pleads tears plainly audible in his words. "Don't hurt her."

The man who had just hit Dawn pulls her semi-conscious body to its feet. One arm wraps around the girl's narrow waist, the other around her neck. He looks at their younger victim and smiles evilly. "Look, kid. You come quiet-like and I'll make sure your little girlfriend doesn't get her neck snapped. You got me?"

Xander goes completely still in the other man's hold. His assailant uses the opportunity to tighten his grip until Xander winces. The boy meets his friend's captor's gaze with tear-filled eyes. "I'll be good," he answers.

The man holding Xander carries him to a white van decorated to look like an ice cream truck. The back door opens and Xander is tossed into the van's back which has been stripped to its bare walls. The other man walks up behind and slides Dawn into the back of the van beside Xander.

"Hey, what about the other one?" the first man calls out suddenly.

Xander looks up and edges toward the van doors. "Tara?" he whispers. In all the action, he had totally forgotten about her.

The other man scoffs. "Leave her. I'm not dealing with two brats and a woman." He turns to the frightened boy watching with wide eyes from the back of the truck. "If she's lucky, nothing will eat her before she wakes up."

Something in Xander snaps. "Tara!" he screams. He bolts for the back door of the van. "Tara! Help! HELP!"

Xander's panicked dash is easily blocked. "Sit down!" he man bellows and shoves the little boy toward the back of the van.

Xander stumbles over Dawn's legs and hit the floor of the van with a small thud. He looks up and is pinned by the man at the van entrance's fierce gaze. "I would stop worrying about your mommy and start worrying about myself, little boy," the man hissed.

The man starts to close the doors and Xander panics. "No, no! Let us go! Let us go! Tara! TARA!"

The man slams the door with a chuckle as he hears the boy start to sob. He turns around and sees both his partners staring at him incredulously. "What?"

The man who had grabbed Xander quirked an eyebrow. "You are one cold son of a bitch, you know that, right?"

The man in question smiles. "That's why they pay me the big bucks."

Inside the van, Xander wipes at his face ineffectually and sniffles. The boy moves over to where Dawn is lying and nudges her gently.

"Dawn?"

No response. He pushes a little harder on her shoulder. "Dawnie?"

Nothing.

Xander whimpers softly. "Dawnie, please wake up," he whispers. "Please?"

Xander lays down facing his friend on the van and curls his body as close as he can get to Dawn's.

"Please, Dawnie," he whimpers. He feels the van start to move beneath him. It's not the only reason his body is shaking. "Please wake up."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_TBC . . . _

_I promise I'm not evil. Next chapter: You'll find out the who of the kidnapping, but maybe not the why_


	16. Chapter 15: Aftermath and Arrival

Title: Outside Humanity

Rating: Teen + (I like to cuss and tear stuff to pieces)

Warnings: Violence, language, some disturbing imagery later. This chapter also has angst, sap, and children in peril. (Sorry for the lack of a detailed warning last chapter, but I didn't want to tip my hand).

A/N: I should be working on my grad school assignments. Or lesson planning. Or I should be grading the huge stack of papers that my students are eagerly waiting to get back. But I wanted to write fanfiction and it's my Thanksgiving vacation, dangit! So, here's a new chapter.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Joyce's SUV and Giles' sports car pulled into the park's small parking lot at the same time. The two exchanged not a single word, but simultaneously walked toward the playground. Joyce would have handed her bat over to the Watcher, but noticed he held a short dagger parallel to the inside of his arm. Neither heard a single noise coming from the playground, eerie in and of itself.

It was Giles who spotted Tara lying motionless near the swings. After a quick glance of his surroundings, the dagger in his hand disappeared into his coat and he jogged to Tara's side. Joyce holds her breath during the seconds after Giles puts his fingers to Tara's throat to check for a pulse. She doesn't breathe again until she sees the Watcher's shoulders relax in a relieved sigh. Thankful for small mercies, Joyce lets Giles take care of the Wiccan while she concentrates on looking for the kids.

Giles ran a hand through his short hair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he rode through his adrenaline rush. He doesn't know what he would have done if the girl had been dead. A moment later, he spotted a handkerchief on the ground near Tara's head. One quick whiff and Giles has figured out the most likely reason Tara is unconscious, but relatively unharmed otherwise. The Watcher pocketed the handkerchief then started to assess the unconscious blonde for any unseen injuries.

A few minutes later, Giles finished his examination just as Joyce returned to his side. "Rupert, I can't find the children anywhere. Their picnic supplies and Dawn's paperback are under that tree. The only other trace of them I found was this," she held up a canvas shoe. "on the grass by the swings. It's Dawn's. She had them on when she left earlier."

Joyce clutched the shoe to her chest. "Who would do something like this? In broad daylight?"

Giles didn't answer right away. That was really the question. Over the years, their group had made more than their fair share of enemies in the demonic world. But out of that number, very few had the ability to go out in daylight much less conduct a kidnapping in the middle of a sun-soaked park. The short list of possible culprits left was not comforting.

"What do we do now?" Joyce asked quietly from beside him. "Should we call the police?"

"The fact that Cordelia was sent a vision warning her of these events tells us that the kidnappers have supernatural ties," Giles reasoned. "In this case, I do not believe the authorities will be about to handle it."

Despite the situation, Joyce snorted. "Not that the Sunnydale Police Department is ever much help."

"Quite," Giles agreed. "But first things first, I believe we should get Tara off the ground. She appears unharmed save being drugged unconscious. Could I move her to the bench seat of your car?"

Joyce nodded and went to unlock her vehicle while Giles gathered Tara in his arms.

"Will she be alright?" Joyce asked as they settled Tara as comfortable as possible.

"I believe she will be fine once she awakens," Giles assured Joyce. He glanced down at his watch. "We'll wait here for Willow and Anya for a couple more minutes."

Giles desperately hoped that nothing had happened to the two young women. They were already short a few members. "Then I suggest we head to my flat."

Joyce shook her head. "We should work at my house," she countered. "There's more room for everyone. You won't have to figure out a way to get Spike there during the day." Joyce took a shuddering breath. "And I've always told Dawnie to call for help, then call home. If she gets a chance, she'll call."

Giles thought the proposal over for a moment then nodded. "Agreed." He didn't mention that Spike was less likely to destroy her house than his flat when he was told Xander and Dawn were missing.

"I'll call Buffy," Joyce told the Watcher. "She and Riley will want to come home and help."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Gawd, my head hurts," was Dawn's first conscious thought. It was quickly followed by, "Man, this floor is cold," and "Where the heck is my left shoe?"

This was before she notice something warm curled into her side. Dawn tried to shift to get a better look at her surroundings. Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat and she groaned.

The weight leaning into her side moved. "Dawnie?" a small voice whispered hoarsely.

The events preceding her involuntary siesta came back to her in a rush. "Xan? Is that you?" The girl pushed past the pain in her head and pulled herself until she was sitting up and leaning against the side wall of the van.

"Dawnie?" Xander asked again a little louder. He looked horrible even in the dim light. The neck of his shirt was torn from his struggling until it was falling off one shoulder. His eyes were red and puffy, an occasional tear still escaping. An ugly bruise darkened the right side of his face from just below his temple across his cheek and extended to his jaw line.

Dawn fumed. That creep had hit her Xander! He was just a little kid. Looking at him, she knew he had to be scared to death. Well, she couldn't get them out of here at the moment, but she could help with the fear. Dawn tried her best to smile reassuringly at the boy. "Hey, fledge. How are you holding up?"

"They hit you," Xander observed softly. "And they hurt Tara."

Dawn noticed with an internal frown that Xander never mentioned what they did to him even though the physical evidence was staring her in the face. His voice sounded rough, as if he'd spent a long time crying. Dawn didn't know how to summon a vengeance demon, but she thought she'd be forgiven in this case for wanting to do so.

Xander sniffled and another few tears made their way down his cheeks. "They left Tara on the ground. By herself. What if no one finds her?" He wrapped his arms around himself and quaked.

Dawn reached out and pulled Xander into her lap. "Willow, Anya, and Mom were all on their way to the park to meet us. They'll find Tara. And then they'll find us."

Xander's body stayed tensed, but he leaned into Dawn's embrace. "They will?" Xander whispered.

"Definitely," Dawn answered not letting a shred of doubt cloud her voice. "Willow and Tara will work their magic. Anya will help them find all the herbs and ingredients they need."

Xander snuggled deeper into Dawn's lap. "And then Spike will come save us?"

"Yeah, Spike's gonna save us."

Mentally Dawn was tallying the odds in her head as she hugged Xander to her. They had been taken with no witnesses. She didn't know which way the van was going or where their final destination might be. And unless Dawn had been unconscious longer than she thought, it was still many hours until sunset. These guys could take them just about anywhere in that amount of time.

Dawn frowned in thought. If the two of them stood any chance at all, she could not afford to wait for the others to show up and rescue them. Xander was depending on her to keep him safe. For the first time ever, Dawn was the older, responsible one. The realization was daunting. But she knew the best way to look after Xander was to figure out how to get help.

She smiled down at Xander who had calmed down enough to uncurl in her arms. "Hey, how about we save Spike, Tara, and the gang some time and rescue ourselves?"

Xander looked up at her and Dawn was struck by the complete faith in her she saw in his eyes. What she saw in Xander's eyes cemented her resolve. She was going to keep Xander safe and get them out of this.

"How are we going to rescue ourselves?" Xander asked.

"We've got to look for an opening," she explained. "The first time they stop watching one of us, we find a way to get help. We run and call home, or find the police . . . or something. Then we hid. When we get away we can't let them find us again."

"Get out, get help, and hide. Got it," Xander quipped with just a shadow of a grin. "I'm good at hiding."

"Once we stop, start looking for a way out," Dawn reminded him. "For now, let's learn the number for my house."

Dawn and Xander got down to the business of learning the Summers residence number. All the while Dawn mentally repeated the mantra, "We can do this. We can do this."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Tara regained her senses feeling a soft mattress beneath her back and a cool compress on her forehead. What was going on? Why was she in bed? And why did she feel like trying to move would take a monumental effort?

She felt the compress being gently repositioned and despite the effort shifted her head to the side. Tara heard a series of shuffling noises before the mattress she was apparently lying on dipped slightly and a gentle pressure settled on her forehead.

"Tara? Honey, are you back with us?"

That was Ms. Summers' voice. Tara opened her eyes in surprise. The older woman sat on the edge of the bed, a worried expression on her face. The look eased when she noticed Tara looking at her.

"We were getting worried. You've been unconscious for a couple of hours."

Tara blinked. "What?"

"If you hadn't woken soon, we were going to take you to the hospital," Joyce continued. She brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Tara's eyes. "Do you hurt anywhere? You've got some pretty nasty bruises across your arms."

Tara looked down at her arms, still confused. Then with almost physical force, it all came back to her. Her entire body stiffened in horror.

"Oh, Goddess!" the witch sat up in bed, then groaned from the sudden head rush.

"Take it easy for a minute," Joyce chided gently. "You're probably going to be dizzy for a while. It's a side effect of chloroform. Go slow or you could hurt yourself."

Tara looked at the woman beside her. Ms. Summers had moved one of her hands to the younger woman's shoulder, holding her steady. Nothing but concern showed in the older woman's eyes. Tara couldn't hold Joyce's gaze.

"One minute I was watching them swing; the next someone grabbed me," Tara whispered.

Tara dared a glance upward. Ms. Summers' expression had not changed and this made Tara angry. "How can you even look at me?" the younger woman asked harshly. "I l-lost them."

"Stop right there," Joyce interrupted with just a touch of harshness. She ignored Tara's flinch at her tone and met the Wiccan's eyes calmly. "You did not lose them. Someone _took_ Xander and Dawn _from _you. And from the bruises I saw, I don't think you let them be taken without a fight."

Tara's chin quivered and Joyce's expression softened. "Honey, it's not your fault. You were ambushed. There was nothing you could do."

Tara's expression crumpled. "Why did they leave me behind?" she asked in confusion. Despite her best efforts, a few tears made trails down her cheeks. "Why would someone want to take Dawn and Xander? They're just kids." She sniffled softly. "Why couldn't they take me too? At least I would be with them, see them," She swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty. "Make sure that they're okay."

There wasn't really much that Joyce could say in response to that. All of Tara's thoughts had also been going through the older woman's head. Joyce did not have any easy answers for Tara and she did not want to patronize the woman by offering empty platitudes. But Joyce knew the pain the girl was in. For the last few days Xander had depended on Tara for food, shelter, and love. Xander was _Tara's_ in a way that only a select few understand. Joyce could not just stand by and not try to help Tara deal with that pain.

"Sitting here, waiting, and not knowing; it's the worst feeling in the world. The only way you can get through it is to never give up hope. The kids are strong, and we will find them."

Joyce clasped Tara's shoulders and made sure the young woman was listening. "We _will_ find them. And no matter what happens we will deal with it. You have to believe that or you'll go crazy."

Tara nodded and after a few moments was able to give Joyce a tentative, but very grateful smile. "We'll get them back."

The Wiccan squared her shoulders and sat up straighter. Joyce watched as before her eyes, the broken young woman pieces herself together. Steely determination shone in her eyes.

"We should get downstairs and see where everyone is in the search," Tara suggested.

"_Good girl,_"Joyce thought with respect. She gave Tara's shoulders a quick, comforting squeeze and helped the young woman to her feet.

The two left the room and headed downstairs side-by-side, ready to find their kids.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Meanwhile . . . ._

"Wolfram and friggin' Hart," Faith muttered as she sat in an empty conference room. "I really should have guessed."

Faith resisted the urge to bang her head on the expensive hardwood table in front of her. Even though the room was empty, she knew she was being watched. The young woman tugged at her blouse unconsciously. Normally, she would be kicked back in one of the chairs with her feet propped on the conference room table, boots scuffing the expensive tabletop. However the understated A-line skirt and blue blouse did little to reinforce her tough-girl image. Sensible pumps didn't make the impression resting on a tabletop as a pair of Docs either.

So, Faith sat properly and patiently and bravely fought the urge to fidget like a schoolgirl sent to the principal's office. Being out of her regular threads in enemy territory was bad enough. Faith would not give these losers the satisfaction of seeing her lose her cool.

As it was, some bimbo personal assistant had shown her to this room over an hour ago. First, the lawyers say they wanted to celebrate. Then, they throw her in the most boring room imaginable and ignore her? What type of games were they playing?

Faith knew she should just walk out. If a certain morbid curiosity over why Wolfram and Hart would get her out of a two decade prison sentence wasn't driving her crazy, Faith would have stormed after ten minutes of being brought here. But by this point, the dark slayer was weighing her continued curiosity against her need to get the hell on with her day.

Almost as if the lawyers knew Faith was losing patience, a woman entered the conference room carrying a slim briefcase. Faith gritted her teeth in distaste. She was a very familiar woman. "Lilah Morgan," the slayer all but growled.

Lilah stopped by the head of the table and smirked. "You remember me? I'm flattered. I must have made a lasting impression."

"Yeah. I was nauseous for days afterwards," Faith shuddered theatrically. "So what's the deal? You guys in the habit of busting your enemies out of the pokey?"

Lilah's smug expression did not waver in the slightest. "Enemy? The last time I recall my firm had hired you as an independent contractor to kill Angel."

Faith stopped from gaping at the lawyer through sheer force of will. With effort, she managed a nonchalant tone. "Yeah, well Angel's still living, as much as a vampire can, anyway. I didn't kill him; guess the deal's off."

Lilah placed her briefcase on the table in front of her. "You have come closer to eliminating Angel than anyone or anything else we have sent against him. And you are a Slayer. You, Faith, are too valuable of a commodity to let rot in prison just because of a slight . . . mishap."

Lilah moved closer to Faith, who still sat at the conference room table. "There are still plenty of opportunities for someone such as you here at Wolfram and Hart." The briefcase was shifted aside, untouched, and leaned into Faith's personal space. "That limo you rode here inside, that was just a taste of what you could earn at Wolfram and Hart. You would have access to all the clothes, weapons, accommodations, and . . ." Lilah's smug expression developed into a leer. ". . . entertainment that a young woman could ever need or want."

Faith was caught between disbelief and disgust. Did these yahoos really think she was stupid enough to keep running with them after she'd failed so spectacularly the last time? Not to mention the fact that Angel was now the only person she trusted to have her back if the shit ever hit the fan.

Lilah, seemingly oblivious to Faith's irritation, shifted away from Faith and picked up her briefcase. The lawyer moved to the door and opened it with a finely manicured hand. "Why don't we continue this discussion in my office?"

Faith was just about to tell the smug bitch where she could stuff her ideas about any type of arrangement between them when a commotion from down the corridor caught her attention.

"Stay the hell away from him, you bastard. Touch him again and I'll find an axe and chop your head off!"

Faith knew that voice. Maybe there was a reason to stick around for a while after all. She gave Lilah a slow grin. "What can I say? You've made me curious."

Faith rose from her seat and joined Lilah at the door. "Shall we?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Next chapter: Dawn and Xander's continued imprisonment at Wolfram and Hart. What will happen now that Faith is in the game? And what's going on with the gang in Sunnydale?_


End file.
